In Remembrance: A British History
by Keiko-keket
Summary: My entry for the Nanowrimo contest - England forces himself to pen his history in the attempt to make his nightmares go away. Part 1!
1. Chapter 1

I must admit to a moment of weakness for writing this and any subsequent information. I just can't keep it in anymore, pretending that I don't think or feel anything wrong. I couldn't continue living my life where every night I'd drink to the point beyond numbness, or have sex until I fall into a deep oblivion, or just not sleep at all. I have a problem - when I sleep, I remember. My past, my history, is causing me nightmares. There was so much anger, pain, confusion and heartbreak that it haunts my dreams. I finally forced myself to speak to someone - Austria wasn't my first choice, but he, out of all the Nations, understands the psyche the most.

But, when I tried to speak, to tell him of my nightmares, my voice - still proud of itself - refused to come out. Austria understood this - he was the one who suggested that I write them down - not just my nightmares, but my entire history. He believes that writing it down removes it from oneself, and leaves one able to see another perspective when one reads it over.

It took me another four months to become desperate enough to try this. It just seems foolish - and potentially dangerous, were it to fall into the hands of say, France, or America - but I pray for the objectivity that writing these memories down is supposed to achieve. I suppose I shall begin at my beginning.

Well then, my earliest memory isn't so much a memory, but a feeling and a scent. Someone is holding me in thin, warm arms. I would like to believe that this is my mother, because I sincerely doubt any one of my brothers or my supposed father would ever hold me with that much love. And I did feel loved - and it will always sadden me that I have never had that same feeling again. Those arms are holding me gently but strong, and if you could combine the smells of earth and plants, smoke and wind, that would be what this warm and wonderful person smelled of. When I think hard, I swear I can see long blonde hair dancing around us and faint humming from a song I just can't place, but that might be my imagination and not part of my memory.

When next I truly became aware of myself, I was laying curled up beside a unicorn much like a colt, and above me, a man with such thick facial hair (well, hair in general) and wrapped in pelts in such a way that for a moment I thought some wild animal stood above me. He knelt before the two of us and spoke. I can't remember what he said, but I felt I knew him and trusted him. Back then, I had no idea I was a Nation - that that feeling of trust I couldn't describe was me recognizing one of my people. He picked me up, and with my unicorn friend at our side, headed away from those white cliffs. He brought me to his home - a cavern he and many of his order had claimed for their rites and mysteries. I say 'his order' because he was a representative of one of my earliest Druidic orders.

I was enraptured with these people, who lived a modest life in the cave. For years I stayed there with them. During the winter months they holed up and taught me as much as they could. I learned how to speak, to read runes, to use magic. One of the most important things I learned though was memorization - my culture back at its beginnings had no formal written language that was shared between the little pockets of civilization - none of them anywhere near a large enough size to be called a village - everything was done by word of mouth. One of the Druids purposes was to relate news and histories between these little clans. When they spoke of something, they used the exact same wording and inflection that it was told to them in. This memorization I learned from them is the reason I can remember so much detail to this day, although my people now have problems remembering what they had for breakfast. But now, I've been distracted.

Between late spring to mid autumn, the cavern was mostly abandoned. Like I mentioned before, the Druids were the history keepers, and also upheld an unwritten law. So, everyone split up, heading north, west, east, south - to every person, every sickness they could cure, to every injustice, to every birthing. And I went, meeting my people, loving them and being loved. I grew a bit in those early years - looking to be between two or three. All I had learned eventually led to me becoming a full fledged Druid myself - a rank I still hold today in secret, performing those ageless rituals by myself instead of with that circle of intelligent, magical men.

I really began to notice that something was different about me when that very man who found me passed on due to old age. I certainly hadn't noticed until then that I had not aged much. I was used to looking up to everyone. When he died, I began to question what I was, because everyone I knew was growing - getting older, having children, graying and dying. So, to find answers, I returned to the spot where I was first found and asked unto the wind to answer my questions. I sat and waited, staff across my feet, the green cloak I had been given wrapped around me. Day turned to night and was returning to day when I got my answer.

I had fallen asleep late after dark, the sound of the waves at the bottom of the cliffs lulling me. I woke to the feeling of something very small prodding my cheek. When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by glowing balls of light dancing and laughing in the predawn light. The small thing poking me was a tiny finger connected to a small hand, which belonged to the first little fairy I ever set eyes on. Her hair was wild and her eyes large like a bugs. She was wearing no clothes - none of them were - and large gossamer wings on her back reflected the light she was emitting, glittering like they were covered in tiny gems. She laughed, as light and airy as she was and said 'Hello', followed by 'you're huge!'.

I couldn't help but laugh with her - with all of them. They danced around me, and I got up to dance with them. All along those cliffs, spinning and hopping while they laughed. FInally, out of breath and dizzy enough that the world continued to spin long after I had stopped, I fell onto my back and watched the sunrise. It was clear and beautiful - and as the fairies flew between the sun and I, the gems in their wings became rainbows.

From the brief time that I had known these fairies, I had begun to discover they could play forever without tiring. But I had had my fun and my question was bothering me again. 'What am I?' I blurted out. The little one that had woken me that morning floated down to rest on my outstretched hand.

'You are the earth.' she said with such joy, 'and you are the grass, the waterfalls, the caves, the trees, the lakes. You are the humans, and you are the fae. But most of all, you are Albion!' and she laughed. She laughed so hard and so happily she fell off my hand and in the air, floating doubled over with hysterics. All the others began to sing 'Albion! Albion!' and danced and giggled in the morning light. I still didn't fully understand - but I was suddenly more aware than before. If I thought hard, I was in the cavern with the Druids, but it was more than that. I was the cavern and I was the Druids, just like I was the stream outside, or the cliffs under my feet.

But most of all, I was Albion. So I laughed as happily as my fair friends and they laughed and life was brighter and happier than before.

More time began to pass and I found myself spending more and more time among the Fae. Like me, they didn't age. And I suppose I was more like them, because the longer I stayed among my people, the more they began to call me 'the Fae child' It was acutely uncomfortable for me, being revered like if they didn't worship me I would turn around and eat their children, so I took to staying only briefly with the humans before wandering off with the fairies. My wanderings took me further and further north, until I finally decided not to return to the cavern for the winter and continue on.

It was late fall and frost had turned all my grass into a wonderfully crunchy mass to walk over. Even though my feet were cold to the point of being numb I continued on, being dared by my friends to try and make the biggest noise I possible could with the dead grass. That was when I stumbled onto a lake. Well, not so much _onto, _more like _into_, soaking my legs and my arms as I used them to keep from falling entirely into the water. I jumped out as fast as I could while being laughed at by the little ones, rubbing my arms furiously and stamping my bare feet to try and regain some warmth. Not much helped until I broke some dry branches off a tree to make a fire. Just as the warmth began to seep back into my freezing body, I felt a Presence at my back. I whipped around, staff in my hands. In front of me was a giant green and brown chest - looking up (and up some more until I was literally craning) I found a huge reptilian head with big golden eyes and a mouth with teeth nearly as large as I was.

I was petrified. I had never before seen a creature that large and as it moved its long neck back, I swear the noise it made was some kind of laughter. With its neck up straight on its body, it was a good twenty feet tall, with its body laying in a shallow part of the lake. To be honest, my mouth was frozen open with a scream that tried to come out, but wouldn't because of some base instinct that if I made no noise, despite the fact that it was staring straight at me, it wouldn't be able to see me.

Having my mouth open made the next part so much worse. The monster lifted one flipper and with considerable speed for its size, drew it back and forth, sending a spray of freezing mud filled water directly onto me. Needless to say, my fire went out and all I could taste was murky water and dirt. As I was coughing and shivering, trying desperately to get the grit out of my mouth, there came an obnoxious laugh from way up high. Looking up through lake-soaked bangs, I watched as the beast lowered its head to the ground. When it did that, I saw something I hadn't been able to notice before. On top of the creatures head and the one doing the laughing, was a boy. He looked to be older than me by a few years, with dark red hair in a frizzy, dirty mass about his head. His arms and legs were beginning to lengthen - he reminded me of a unicorn colt, all gangly legs that wobbled in all directions except for the one it wants.

I would have thought that was funny normally, but this boy was laughing at the fact that a large water monster drenched me with freezing water when it was nearly winter. 'That's not funny!' I yelled up at the still laughing boy.

'Oh my darling, that was perfect! Did you see his face!' the boy gasped as he slip off the creatures head. He wiped tears from his eyes and I saw they were a green to match mine, with the same bushy brows. That didn't make me like him any more though. Truth be told I was very near tears. 'That was a horrible thing to do! I'm soaked and its freezing and my fires gone out.' I could feel my face turning red with embarrassment and anger, at that moment I wished nothing more than to push him into the lake and see how he liked it. The other boys face quickly went from laughter to a strange mean spiritedness that I had never seen before. 'It's less than you deserve, murderer.' he sneered hatefully at me. You can understand, I was very confused. 'Murderer? I haven't killed anyone!' I denied. Animals, yes I have killed for food and clothing. But, I had never killed a person before.

'Murderer and a liar too.' the other hissed, stomping closer to me with his fists clenched. 'You killed mother you little toad - don't deny it!'

'I'll deny it as much as I want, since I haven't killed any - oof!' I was trying to say when the older boy punched me in the gut. I was down on the ground, wheezing for air when he kicked me, as hard as he could. Picking me up by the front of my wet robe, he tossed me back against a thick tree trunk. Through the tears in my eyes, I watched him pick up a stick. I flinched away, thinking he was going to hit me with that as well. Instead, he drug it through the dirt between him and me.

'I only have one thing to say to you.' he told me, waving the stick like a sword. 'Stay on your side of the line. Come across and I'll hurt you three times as badly as I did just now.' he tossed the stick down. Then he spat on me before turning to get back on the monsters back to sail away.

I stayed where I was, shivering, miserable and confused. My fairies tried their hardest to get me to get up and go, but I was stuck, struck by the violence the other had used and the hatred he had for me, for reasons I didn't understand. Eventually, the always flighty Fae left - and for a good day and night I sat there in shock. I got to the point where I was so cold that I no longer felt cold when I finally snapped out of staring at that line in the dirt. I don't really remember leaving to find a cave to warm up in, or building a fire once I got there. But, as I warmed up, I became more and more annoyed then angry at that boy.

I didn't find out right away who he was, because it took some time to catch up with my friends. When I found out that the boy was one of my older brothers, I was shocked. I'd never had any actual family, then suddenly I had three older brothers. Which meant that when the other - and the Fae said they didn't know his name because he had to tell them, which he had not - said I murdered his mother, he meant my mother too. 'How could I have killed someone when I was as little as I was?' was all I could think.

I'm not sure how much time went by, but I came back to see if I could spot my brother so many times after that. I had so many questions for him. But every time I came back disappointed - not only did I not see that wild red-head, but the line in the dirt moved further and further away from the lake with every visit. I was too afraid to cross that line, even as it pushed my farther and farther back. I didn't want to get hurt again.

Decidedly depressed, I gave up. If he didn't want to talk to me, maybe one of my other brothers did. I turned back south, wondering where to search when I discovered something amazing. The humans called it 'Carn Euny' and it was more than just a couple of huts huddled together. For one thing, the huts were made from stone and not timber. There were herds of cattle and sheep further off, and I could hear the banging and smashing of a smith forging weapons as well as from warriors practicing their art with spear and sword. Up until then, I had never seen such a large group of people in one place - there must have been hundreds, if not thousands there.. My very first village. I stopped and lived there for a short while, learning how to use a short spear (though I could not use one of the swords, they were much taller than I was) and much of building, herbs and herding. I stayed with the Druid - and Carn Euny had a _live in_ Druid- who thought I was a poor child wandering in the woods. I must have grown some more while I was there, because it took him a few years to realize that there was something different about me.

When I decided it was time to move on, the fairies and I moved to the west. I'd personally never gone that far west before, but the Fae said that there were people a long ways that way. So I traveled non-stop for nearly a year when we finally ran into someone. He was standing at the edge of a flock of sheep, dancing and yelling waving a stick to get them to move in the direction he wanted. He had brown hair hanging around his shoulders in wavy curls and even from where I stood among the trees a fair distance away, I could see he had green eyes.

The sheep were being uncooperative like sheep tended to like to be, and the older boys yelling and waving became a great deal more frustrated. Gathering my courage, I marched out of the trees towards the flock. He spotted me almost right away, brandishing his stick as if I were some kind of sheep thief. I stopped far enough away that I was out of range if he chose to throw it at me. 'Which way do you want them to go?' I yelled, pointing to the sheep.

He stayed quiet for a long moment, just staring at me blankly. Then he snapped into action, waving towards the mouth of the valley before taking up one side of the herd. I ran to the other and between us the sheep finally moved on, protesting all the while. Herding sheep with this boy - who didn't feel like one of my people did, making me wonder who and what he was - was actually quite fun. We didn't speak to each other the entire time, but we made this game where one of us would charge at the sheep. The scared animals would rush towards the other who would make bigger and grander gestures than before to scare them back towards the other to continue the game. It was needless to say that by the time we got the flock back to their corral, the stupid beasts were exhausted, while the two of us were nearly falling over ourselves laughing.

I stayed with him over the winter months as snow locked us inside his hut. It was drafty, but we made it warm with games, like wrestling and chasing the Fae that lived there. It was the first time there was someone beside me to appreciate magical things who wasn't a Druid - this boy who was like me, with a people and a land and everything. We watched unicorns prance like deer through the snow, silver hooves kicking powder high into the air as it sparkled, played music for the salamanders dancing in our fires. And then, we exchanged Names. I learned he was Cymru - who in this day and age is called Wales - and I told him my name was Albion.

Our fun was cut short in spring, when our brother arrived looking for a fight. Cymru knew something was up - we were laying in a field of sweet smelling grass when he suddenly sat up and stared off into the distance. I was about to ask him what was going on when he bolted back for his house. Confused and worried, I followed, only to see him leaving the hut, sword in hand. His longer legs carried him quickly and swiftly off, and I think that was the first time I ever cursed being so small as I had to resort to tracking his footprints in the soft ground. When I did catch up to him, he was threatening that red-headed boy who was with the monster years ago - I looked around surreptitiously for the beast but unless it had shrunk small enough to hide behind a tree or bush he was without it.

'What are you doing on my land Yr Alban?' Cymru practically snarled, 'I thought when I last kicked you out, you got the picture to _stay out_.' I held back, still afraid of the fierce boy -Yr Alban? - and the fact that there was no line blocking him from me.

'I would have, but I was concerned that you had lost what little mind you had!' argued the red-head, who marched close enough to Cymru for me to see that he was taller than even my brown haired brother. His green eyes were dark with anger which was quickly focused on me, as he caught me lurking in the background. 'I cannot believe that you would take in that murdering little shit!' He pointed a derogatory finger at me.

'Brother, if you blame him for killing mother, you would need to blame us all.' Cymru, thank the stars, had a voice of reason. 'He couldn't help being born any more than you or I or Eire. And no matter how much you blame him or love her, she shall not return. Holding that kind of grudge against kin will -'

I wish I could have heard what Cymru said. It may have made things between the three of us a little easier as time went on. Perhaps it may have even saved me from becoming... well, a monster like Scotland's Nessie, too large for the place it lived with a primal need to kill and feast on those deaths.

At that moment, the loudest scream I had ever heard echoed above the three of us. We all crouched down, looking into the sky with fear. From the air came a red dragon, scales shining in the light like coals. It landed near enough to us, mantling it's wings and screaming - oh god, the screams! - and clearly defending itself.

From a distance to the east came a large white dragon, who's answering call caused my ears to ring and heart to pound with fear. The red launched itself into the air, crashing into the white claws and teeth first. The two twined around each other, claws screeching against metallic scales trying to find purchase. The white reared it's long neck back and came to clamp it's strong jaws in the red's neck. Even from our place crouched on the ground we could see the crimson blood spurt from the wound.

'Y Ddraig Goch!' Cymru called in alarm, standing and running towards the swiftly moving figures as if he could somehow make a difference in the fight. Afraid for myself as that would leave me with Yr Alban, I ran after him. I could feel my brother following after me, making my skin crawl and itch, waiting for him to strike me from behind. But the two of us made it to Cymru unscathed except for the dark look he shot me as he passed, coming to put a hand on our brothers shoulder.

The two dragons, completely unaware of us in their attempts to kill each other continued on. The bite to the red was bleeding, but it had gotten some revenge by getting its claws in between the whites scales and ripping long furrows down its belly. My attention was diverted to Cymru, who's terrified eyes were riveted on the war in the sky. "Oh gods, please no... don't kill Y Ddraig Goch..." he muttered behind hands clamped over his mouth. I hated seeing him distressed, for even in the short time I knew him I had come to care for him a great deal. So, I did the only thing I could to help - I cast a spell. Reaching down into the earth - rich with magic freely flowing along ley lines- I cast out, searching for the nearest node. Touching one, I took a deep breath, concentrating on what I wanted before tapping into that fiery power.

It ran along my skin and under it, zipping through my body and leaving it feeling tingly, wanting to do what it did best and wanting me to show it. I put what I wanted into a cantrip and like an arrow the spell shot from me, flying into the air. It took the form of thick golden sheets of energy, spiraling up and up until it hit the first dragon - the white. The behemoth screeched, nearly destroying my concentration as now that it had caught it's target, the sheets quickly and tightly wrapped around the first one. A second wave came up and caught the red dragon and soon enough there were two struggling, shining figures above us. The magic was draining to use, so I hurriedly cast the second part of the spell. The two balls of magic were drug back down to the earth. They hit one of the rolling hills - not larger enough to be a Faerie Fort, but still a decent size. Then, the two dragons and all the shimmering magic around them were absorbed into the hill.

And that was it. I collapsed where I had stood, exhausted. There were spots dancing in my eyes and I was dizzy. All I could really do was close my eyes and concentrate on breathing. From what I could hear, both my brothers ran for the hill. I could hear Cymru crying and calling for the red as well as the scrabbling sounds of tearing grass and fingers clawing through dirt.

Before I felt capable of opening my eyes there was a pair of feet stomping towards me, and I was being pulled into the air by my tunic. 'What did you do to them!' Yr Alban yelled at me as he shook me. About the only thing I could do at that point was groan and vomit on him. I was dropped back down pretty quickly the air above my head filled with blistering curses. When I could breathe again and open my eyes I turned my eyes on my furious brother. 'Put them... to sleep...' I choked out the taste of vomit souring my mouth.

'Why... why did you do that?' I could hear the anguish in Cymru's voice. Forcing myself onto my knees, I saw him, smudged with dirt, tears staining his face, brown hair highlighted by the sun and knew that I caused that. It hurt as if I had just stabbed myself.

'I... didn't want them to fight... I didn't want them to die!' I called back up willing him to understand.

'Ha!' Yr Alban barked out, pulling off his own vomit covered tunic and throwing it in my face. 'Do you believe his lies now, brother? That white one came from the east! This little toad is your only brother to the east - it came from him! His dragon wants to kill yours - he's a murderer who wants to kill again!' he walked up the hill once more, ignoring my protests that the dragon wasn't mine. 'The only reason he put them under the kill was to keep you from discovering his beast is the weaker one. And now that you understand that, I'm going home.' I watched him vanish into the forest at a lope and wished that I had no brother to the north.

Forcing myself to my feet, I staggered up the hill to kneel beside Cymru. 'It's not true.' I told him quietly. 'That's not my dragon... I don't want to kill you... I just wanted to save them.' I couldn't see for the tears in my eyes as I reached out to touch him on his arm. He jerked away as if I burned him, getting up to face away from me.

'Albion... you should go.' he said, and I heard the sadness in his voice to match the one I felt in my heart.

'But-' I wanted - no _needed_- to defend my case, but he whirled around hand out, striking me across my face.

'I give you my word Albion that I shall not use your Name in vain, but I... I can't stand to look at you anymore. So leave. And don't return.' With that, he turned away from me once more and left me there. In many ways, this hurt more than when I first met Yr Alban - he hurt me physically, but I had only just met him. Cymru... I loved Cymru as a brother. I lost him that day and even now and probably until the end of our days we will never be able to care for each other as we did that one winter.

I hurt so badly that when I became aware of myself again, I had come back to Carn Euny without even remembering the slightest bit of the nearly year long travel. My little friends tried to console me but it made no difference. My closest unicorn friend offered me a large, warm shoulder to cry on. I soaked that shoulder on numerous occasions. But eventually, I became... not numb to that pain, but it became such a part of me that I did not notice it as much.

And that is when I heard whispers of boats being sighted out in the water of my coast. Reports began to come in from merchants, telling my leaders of a man named Caesar, who wished to conquer my island. I wasn't very afraid of an invasion at the time - in retrospect, I should have been very afraid. To me at the time, it was a very exciting concept. A whole new race of warriors to pit my people's strength against. A potential war for goodness sakes! I was abuzz with energy and thinking back on the whole affair, I was using this potential invasion to throw all my anger and sadness at. I remember the first time I saw the Roman warriors in the distance and imagining they looked like Yr Alban.

But first, I helped prepare for war. I joined the ranks of children polishing chariots and gathering the horses. I foraged, sharpened spears and swords, checked that the shields were properly maintained and ground woad into a paste for my warriors to paint themselves with. During this, I think my people recognized that I was something important to their cause, for as I went from clan to clan, each leader pulled me aside and asked for my blessing in the coming fight.

I was in attendance at a meeting between Segovax, Carvilius, Cingetorix, Taximagulus (the four rulers of the Cantiaci), and Cassivellaunus (the ruler of the Catuvellauni) listening to them argue about anything they could think of when I blacked out. One minute I had been standing beside Cassivellaunus's seat and the next I was being held in his lap with all five of them looking at me with worry. Apparently while I was unconscious I had prophesied that the Roman's would be attempting to land at my precious white cliffs in half a moon's turn. I have to admit that once they came to understand that the threat was closer than ever before the arguing stopped immediately as both parties rushed to get to the cliffs before the Roman legions.

Without even meaning too, I stayed almost entirely at Cassivellaunus's side - that proud warrior king using that as a means to display his leadership. I didn't mind, he was brilliant and outgoing, and I, like his men, was swept up in his fervor. Before I knew it, we were at the cliffs with the men and I waiting impatiently for their arrival. I was asleep, wrapped in my cloak by Cassivellaunus's side when the alarm went up. I jerked awake as the larger man jumped to his feet and I fell over. Scrambling to my feet in the light of dawn I grabbed my own spear and dashed to the edge of the cliffs with a considerable mix of delight and the beginnings of fear.

I didn't have to search far or hard to see the ships coming. They spanned the horizon, many black dots moving across the water and silent in the morning light. There were _so many_ of them and if I could see them from that distance, they must all be of considerable size. That was the first time I began to really worry as to what was going to happen. Large boats meant lots of soldiers. Cassivellaunus must have seen my worry, he pat my head - streaking it blue with dye - and speaking to me calmly. 'Do not fear, little Fae. They may be coming in greater numbers, but we are fierce and strong. They will not take us.'

I believed him without question as we stood at the front line, and yet there was something I could do to even out our odds just the same. Reaching for my magic and the lines running crisscross through the area, I sent my thoughts swirling out over the water to those ships. To the extent of my reach over those waters I sent clouds and wind and rain, catching a good number of those ships, to delay them. The ones that I missed, while numerous, were not as daunting as the whole.

When I opened my eyes again, I could see the clouds I had conjured in the distance, wonderfully dark and forbidding. I could breathe easier and as those ships came close enough to see the people moving around on deck I could be brave. I imagine it was quite a shocking sight for those Roman bastards to see - the top of the cliff covered in thousands of warriors, painted blue, shaking spears and screaming challenges. Needless to say, they didn't land. For hours they stayed out in the waters before turning up my coast. We gave chase, the charioteers gaining ground much faster that the foot soldiers. I clung to Cassivelaunus's legs as his own chariot bounced along the somewhat rough terrain.

The Roman's finally did try to land - but the area they picked wouldn't allow their ships to come all the way up to my coast. As their soldiers waded in though my waters it was nothing to fire arrows and hurl javelins at them, picking them off with such ease I began to wonder why I had been afraid.

Then I saw him. Standing at the front of the foremost ship was the man I came to know as Rome. Even from a distance I felt intimidated - he exuded a sense of Empire from his proud stance to his golden armor to his well-muscled limbs. His red cape and brown hair blew in the wind as he gave orders - or at least I assume so. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but by the way his people scrambled to do his bidding it seemed a fair guess. He turned back to face my land - and that is when he caught sight of me. Our eyes met, his brown to my green. And he smiled as he took my whole form in - small, childish body, messy blonde hair streaked with blue and mussy robes.

I tried to stare him down, show him I wasn't afraid of him. It didn't work, because while I was distracted by that, the Roman's had set themselves up with catapults on their boats. I'd never seen anything like those, so when they launched and my people started dying, we retreated back. As his soldiers made their way through the water and finally made it onto land our easy fight became a bloody one. I don't remember much about it - the shock at feeling so many of my people die all at once made me numb. I do know we retreated into the forest, and I also know that I became separated from my army. When I started to come out of my daze, I was all alone amongst the tall trees. I had hunched down, trying to breathe calmly and regain myself when I heard footsteps crunching towards me. Seeing as how I couldn't feel the person in my head, I knew it was one of the Roman's. When I looked up, it wasn't one of them - it was Rome. I didn't understand the look in his eyes for I had never met anyone with the desire to _own_ someone so badly.

'Well hello there little one, what's your name?' he asked me, kneeling down to be closer to my level. I shifted back to get farther away from him, something that seemed to cause him no end of amusement.

'Get off my land.' I told him, trying to sound grown up and mature, but really just coming across as whiny and petulant. He laughed at me, that deep and booming sound resounding in my bones and making me ache.

'No.' he told me. 'They aren't your lands - you haven't gone and made a claim to them. I, however, am claiming them.' he reached over and in a gesture that was the same and yet so different from Cassivellaunus ruffled my hair. This time, the blue on me came off on him. I leapt to my feet and backed up farther glaring at him.

'I - you - you can't claim them! They're me! You don't own me!' I spluttered as my back hit a tree. He stood, towering over me and smiling.

'I may not own you now kid, but I will.' and he reached for me again, but this time I dodged and _ran._ I'm not sure how long or how far, and even though I didn't hear him coming after me I didn't stop. And I knew, with such certainty that that man, that Nation, was insane.

I burst out of the trees to find myself on the edge of my people's camp. The survivors were shocked by the fight, but they were strong and kept going, bandaging wounds, tending fires, and talking amongst themselves as they set up tents. I found myself outside of one going in, and there was Cassivellaunus and the other four leaders sitting and talking. When they noticed me, they cheered, as if they had won the day and not the Roman's. I couldn't help but smile at them, shaky as that smile was.

'We are pleased that you have not been taken or killed, little Fae.' he told me with relief.

'I am sorry for not being able to keep with the retreat, it will not happen again.' I said, coming to sit by his feet. He wouldn't let me do that, lifting me up into his lap and hugging me with his strong arms. It shocked me at the time, that he was more worried for me than his army, or the fact that he had lost his initial fight with the enemy. But I understand now that losing me was as good as losing the whole war to my people. It's touching and yet still unnerving to watch when fights are tough that so many people would willingly give their lives to make sure I make it out alright.

'Now that we are all here, it is time to discuss future plans.' Cassivellaunus began as I settled down with him. 'I have noted that their army, now beached on your territory,' and he nodded towards the four Kings, 'are not removing their boats from the coast.' and his grin was positively feral. He reminded us of our beloved waters that rose and fell every day. And that was how it went - our scouts reporting ships being damaged or completely destroyed. He told us stories of keeping the army here for the winter, harrying them and starving them before destroying them. The idea revitalized our warriors, revenge giving them more fight than even before.

While this was being decided, my other tribes were trying to end this with more of an idea of peace. They sent ambassadors - who simply became hostages and reinforced the idea that we were running scared to the Roman's. We attacked them again, while a group of their soldiers were out foraging and cut down quite a few of them before the rest of the army arrived and drove us off. I never thought I'd see my proud warriors become demoralized, and it was sad that it had become a reality. Cassivellaunus was becoming desperate for a way to defeat them, when I mentioned my magic for the first time to one who was not a Druid. He was shocked but relieved, and I once again set myself up to create not just a storm, but a series of storms. For days I sat concentrating on keeping the bad weather sitting there on the Romans, drowning the beach and raising the ocean. I stayed at the camp even as our warriors went off again every last bit of my magic going into that spell.

I lost concentration when another vast chunk of my people started to die. I felt as if I was swimming in their spilt blood and I choked, tasting it and smelling it. And not only that, I felt it when the Roman's started setting my lands on fire to drive us back. When my people returned once more defeated, my leaders found me unconscious, with burn marks on my side and blood leaking out my nose. We all were relieved when the Roman's gathered up the remnants of their ships and left. And I can say that I wasn't the only one who hoped to never see them again.

You can imagine my horror during the next summer as I was resting with the Faeries on my beloved white cliffs that I saw ships in the distance. And there were more of them, so many more of them that I cried at the sight of it. When I gathered myself and returned to Cassivellaunus to inform him of the new invasion he tried to subdue my fears by telling me of the alliances he had made, and the tribes he had conquered to make our forces larger and more formidable than before. I wish I could say I believed him that time, but I alone had seen the fleet, and I couldn't help but be afraid that Rome would get me this time.

We used a different plan this time, as they landed on the beach by my cliffs and not in the same place as last time, we waited for them further inland. I felt when they invaded, marching upon me during the night. We fought them at what was later named the River Stour, and were yet again pushed back. I was feeling so helpless and frustrated - why did all the Nations bigger than me feel they could walk all over me? I channeled that anger and sent another storm to their fleet, hoping to destroy them all - but they had built new boats, more prepared to deal with being beached, so while I damaged them, their force remained mostly intact.

Some good came of this; Rome and his legions turned back to fix the ships that they could, which gave us time to regroup and protect ourselves. Our enemies returned after over a week of non-stop work - we had been spending our time preparing to keep them from advancing further. We filled the river (which eventually became known as the Thames) with wooden spikes at the shallowest point. Cassivellaunus gave us more time by running sneak attacks on the invaders, before vanishing back into the forest. Much to my relief, he returned alive every time, though I could tell he was frustrated by the Roman's refusal to leave.

I watched as Rome arrived at the river. We had a strong defense guarding our side and with all the spikes in the river and on their side, I thought we would be able to keep them away. Rome looked around and finally spotted me amongst my forces and smiled, as if he thought I was being cute and adorable in my resistance. Then he proceeded to dash my hopes of keeping them away by forcing his way across and meeting our warriors. I wish that we had been able to keep up our defense, but once again, we retreated.

Cassivellaunus took us to his stronghold to give us some room to plan our next defense. At this time, I didn't know it, but this would be a prime example of my people betraying me for their own interests. Before this war - and it was war for us, even if Rome declared he was there merely for exploration - began, Cassivellaunus had killed the leader of the Trinovantes and taken over their territory. That man's son, Mandubracius, wanting his lands back, turned coat and approached the Roman's promising aide if they returned his crown. Furthermore, five other tribes turned against us out of fear, and gave away our location to Caesar to protect themselves. Personal greed and fear destroyed my chances of saving my independence. While I can't blame those tribes, to this day I hold a grudge against Mandubracius, and even a small one against Cassivellaunus - if he had held his greed for more land in check, perhaps the damage would have been lessened.

I had never been under siege before - we were completely unprepared for those Roman legions to surround us. Like I had mentioned before, we were mostly a warrior race - we raised herds, but most of our vegetables were gathered, not grown. We also didn't have a definitive source of water aside from what I could conjure - but making water from nothing was especially tiring (though not quite as bad as putting two dragons to sleep under a hill), and I couldn't make enough for the thousands of people plus all the animals. Cassivellaunus asked me if there was something I could do to get a message to Cingetorix, Carvilius, Taximagulus and Segovax, who weren't with us this fight. I sent off a message spell, with us asking for them to draw off the Roman's so we could escape.

I could feel it when they attacked the Roman's camp back by my cliffs. I could also feel it when their attack failed. In the end, we were forced to negotiate a surrender. Cassivellaunus and I left the fort together and were taken to the largest tent in the Roman army. There, Caesar and his aides as well as Rome were waiting for us, with Rome looking especially pleased to see us. I was filled with a feeling of sick dread as Cassivellaunus sat to negotiate. I didn't know much about the politics of the whole fight, so I stood to the back of the tent, watching both my leader and their Nation. By the time everything was finished, we were giving them hostages and an annual tribute, as well as giving that bastard Mandubracius and his Trinovantes back their land and promising not to make war with them again.

I was leaving the tent behind Cassivellaunus when Rome grabbed me from behind and picked me up. 'Are you sure you don't want to become one with me?' he practically _cooed _ in my ear as he held me to his chest. I flailed against him, pounding him with ineffective fists. 'Unhand me!' I demanded, not that he ever listened to anything I said. In seconds Cassivellaunus was prying me away from him - it looked for a moment as if he were about to declare war against them once more for my honor, but he managed to hold it in, bow stiffly, and leave. He carried me all the way back to his rooms in his fortress, and I didn't mind one bit as now I could admit that Rome scared me. I thanked him for rescuing me, and told him that even though we didn't win, he kept me free and that was all that mattered. After all, I could have easily become one of those negotiated hostages, and then Rome would have me. I think that Cassivellaunus had come to see me a bit as a son more than a Fae, because he never left my side that night even as I had nightmares of Rome (or was it Yr Alban?) beating me back with an invisible line until there was nowhere else to go but drown in the ocean.

Soon enough, the Roman forces were gone. Every last one of them packed up in their ships and set sail back to their home. I was relieved enough that I didn't harass them with more storms as they left, though the temptation was great.

For years the only Roman's that came to my lands were traders bringing all sorts of novelties and stories from the continent. I actually came to enjoy listening to them - even learning a bit of the language without even meaning to. Generations passed, and my people seemed to forget the fear of invasion by the Roman's - although they still made that tribute of hostages and money every year. My population grew, my villages grew, even I grew a bit. I think I looked to be about nine by that time. I even met a couple of Nations that were not Rome - Lady Gaul (France's mother) visited infrequently, as some of her people had migrated to my shore's, as well as Germania, except he scared me nearly as much as Rome, so I mostly avoided him.

I know Rome came at least once, but between the Fae and I we managed to stay at pretty much the opposite side of the island at all times. I heard from Cunobelinus, who became the King of the Catuvellauni after Cassivellaunus passed on that Rome officially declared him King of all Britannia. I told him that Rome had no authority over any of our tribes, so any of his 'official declarations' were a load of bull shit. Perhaps I shouldn't have phrased it that way, because he took it into his head that if he wasn't declared King, he'd make himself King - and started trying to take over all the other tribes. Trinovantes fell to him, and he had begun to pressure Atrebates when he passed on and left his kingship to his two sons, Togodumnus and Caratacus.

I started to become worried again, as the King of Atrebates at the time, Verica, was exiled and left for the continent. Worse, my two new Kings decided to stop paying tribute and although I approved of it as well as their whipping up anti-Roman sentiments, I could tell it wasn't the best thing to do. Quite quickly after that, my worst fear came to pass, and the Roman's were once again floating across the channel. It was quick and it was bloody, with fights over rivers and through marshland. Togodumnus was killed during one of those fights, and we were swiftly pushed back. I came to miss Cassivellaunus, who at least could rally enough of a fight. Eleven of my tribes in the south quickly gave up without a fight, and I ran with Caratacus for our freedom.

As we were pushed west, I became very sick. I could feel every inch of myself being trampled under Roman feet, my people bowing to Roman leaders, my towns filled with Roman soldiers. I vaguely remember Caratacus being defeated at Caer Caradoc, and while his family was defeated, he spirited me away to Brigantes. The Queen there, Cartimandua, had already become loyal to Rome, and gave Caratacus to the Roman's. I never saw him again. She still managed to have enough loyalty to her country that she didn't hand me over and I was passed around between Kings and Queens of my people, whether loyal to Rome or not over the next few years to keep me safe from Rome.

That was when I met Boadicea. She was Queen of the Iceni, which was loyal to Rome at the time. When her husband Prasutagus passed on, leaving the Iceni in joint custody of Rome and Boadicea, Rome betrayed them and took over. She was furious with her allies. When the Roman's arrived, she hid me away in a secret compartment in her rooms. While I'm very glad she managed to hide me as sick and weak as I was, I wish I had not been subject to her humiliation. Rome arrived with his men and even though she protested their right to annex them, they ignored it. I never, and I repeat _never_ want to have to hear someone be flogged again. The same goes with hearing someone be raped - which those disgusting Roman pigs did to her daughters. I was crying in the dark, begging for it to end with my fist stuffed in my mouth in hopes that no one would be able to hear me over all the noise they were making. It became quieter, the only sounds I could hear were those poor girls trying not to cry, when my hiding place was opened up.

I nearly screamed, but it was Boadicea - strong, fiery Boadicea, lifting me out and hugging me, and all four of us sat there in the dark and cried together. She told me that we had to be strong, that even though the Iceni were declared a Roman territory, her people, _my_ people would resist now.

We left the next night, heading for Trinovantes who had also been allies of the Roman's. Boadicea spoke of what happened to her, how if Rome got the chance, they would take away the King's and Queen's of my country and replace them with puppet monarchs. The Trinovantes were incensed, spreading word to their neighbors. The tribes banded together and with Boadicea at their head, left for Camulodunum. It used to be the Trinovantes capitol, but as was becoming the norm, the Romans took it over, mistreated my people, and forced taxes on them to build a temple. To this day, I'm proud we razed that town to the ground, burning every building and killing every Roman we found. I started to feel a bit less sick at this, and with a cheer I hadn't felt in what was seventeen years, set fire to buildings and danced with the salamander's through the fires. High on our victory, we set off for Londinium. The Roman's built that town and filled it with trade and their own nobility. We seized it, killed them all, and burned it to the ground as well. I hadn't laughed so much since before I was first invaded. Before the Roman's could amass enough forces, we even destroyed Verulamium.

By that time, our army was in the hundreds of thousands, larger than any that we had amassed against the Roman's before and we met them in battle with superior forces. I was once again overcome by the feeling of mass amounts of my people dying. I came back to myself to the feeling of a hand on my shoulder. Centering in on that I was finally able to turn around and look at who held me. Boadicea was there, cut, bruised and covered in blood that wasn't hers. 'Little Fae,' she gasped, pulling me along in the twilight, 'we have lost this fight.' There were footsteps directly behind us - her daughters, both in similar condition to their mother - and in the distance, the clash of swords and screams of the triumphant and the dying. Further and further we ran, until the sounds of war were distant. As we stopped, Boadicea knelt before me.

'My darling little Fae, I loathe the idea of those filthy Roman's touching you as much as I loathe the idea of ceding my daughters to them again.' she drew four small bladders out from the folds of her dress. 'Allow me the honor of protecting you one final time.' First, she handed two to her daughters, both grim faced and determined. She unstoppered both the remaining two before handing one to me. 'Let us drink to freedom.' she spoke, and watched as her children and I drank. It was so bitter I nearly gagged, but I managed to swallow it down. Then, she drank hers while the burning in my throat extended to my stomach then my heart until my whole body was afire. Later in my life I decided to discover what she gave us out of morbid curiosity. The poison was made from the seeds of an English yew tree, very potent and deadly - that was quickly proven as her daughters died quickly, followed by Boadicea herself. I passed out due to the pain, but came back to consciousness briefly as someone shook me. Through my tear filled, blurry eyes I saw Rome. I cried, because unless whatever Boadicea gave me worked, I was now his. Needless to say, a Nation's constitution is stronger than a normal humans, and for the next few weeks of travel when I wasn't comatose was filled with pain and jostling, vomiting and burning limbs. I was very much a mess and I knew it was Rome himself who was tending me. I wished to every deity I knew that I had died.

I woke one morning to solid wood beneath me that didn't sway with waves or bounce under me from rutted roads. I sat up to look around. It was the first time I had ever been in a temple and yes I was intimidated by it, but at the same time it was beautiful. There were three sections that I could see and at the end of each section there was a marble statue. Two were women on the left and right and the one in the centre was a male.

'It's beautiful isn't it?' a small, soft voice came from beside me. I jumped, literally into the air as I whipped around to look at the source of the voice. It was a little boy, maybe three or four years old, dressed in a tiny white robe and white cap on top of mussy brown hair, with one long strand hanging out along the side. He jumped when I jumped, stuttering an apology.

'No, it's alright. And you are right, it is very beautiful.' I sat up on the bench, trying to reassure him with a smile. 'Who are they?'

The little boy gasped, staring at me with horror. 'They're the Capitoline Triad! Everyone knows who they are!' Realizing I'd unintentionally distressed him, I reached over to pat him on the shoulder. 'I apologize - I did not mean to cause harm.' Once he looked calmer I kept going, 'I am not from around these parts, so unfortunately your deities are as foreign to me as I am to you.' That didn't seem to soothe him much at all.

'My name's Italy. What's yours?' he asked me. I froze, startled that someone would willingly give their name to a complete stranger.

'His name in Britannia, Italy. He is our newest conquest.' a loud voice came from behind us, making us both jump. We turned at the same time, but Italy ran at him squealing, 'Grandpa Rome! You're back!', hugging one of his legs until he was lifted into the air in a hug. 'Of course I'm back! Grandpa Rome will always come back victorious!' he declared, making the little boy laugh. While he said that though, his eyes were glued to me and his smile was more of a smirk to the point that I felt ill.

'Now my darling little Italy, I have to set some rules, which I expect you to follow.' Rome looked down at Italy, who smiled and nodded. 'You aren't to speak or go near Britannia again,' he started, shushing the little boy's protests, 'There's good reason for this, so hush. You can't speak to him because this boy is a heathen; he twists lies into his words to subvert you.' Italy gasped in horror, turning to stare at me while I tried to argue against him, but he kept talking over me. 'And you aren't allowed near him because he likes to trick people and cast magic curses on them. I would not like you near him until he converts and gives up his evil ways.' I was very sad that that little impressionable boy was related to that man, for he started to shake in fear, believing Rome's every lie.

'Uaaa, Grandpa Rome, Britannia's scary!' he cried wiggling down from his grandfathers arms and running away with surprising speed. And yes, that was the beginning of Italy being afraid of me. It's a bitter irony that I hadn't even done anything yet to really be worthy of him being scared.

'Why would you-' I started saying, indignant when Rome took large steps towards me, grabbing my face with his hand. I stopped speaking immediately - that hand was large enough to cover my entire lower face in such a strong grip and with such little effort I was afraid that if he became angry he would crush me with just one squeeze.

When I was silent long enough for him to decide that I was properly intimidated he spoke. 'Stay away from my grandson, boy.' I suppose the fact that I remained silent too long without answering him was the reason he shook me. It was dizzying and painful - I felt the bones in my neck grinding the opposite way of how they should be - and when he finally stopped, repeating himself, I squeezed my eyes shut to hide pained tears, and nodded. He let me go and I quickly put more distance between us. I was terrified - am still terrified - of that man, who had power enough to hurt me so casually and yet hold his family so gently; that man who could smile so sweetly but do a complete reversal of his personality in mere moments.

Like, right at that moment. He went from threatening me and nearly crushing my face, to sweet and happy in an instant. 'Alright, so long as you understand. I've had a room prepared for you while you recover here. Whatever that bitch queen did to you was a nasty one - but the physician says you'll be fine with lots of rest. So. Let's go.' he held out his hand to me as if he hadn't just insulted one of my Queen's, squeezed my face so hard I developed bruises and conquered my home. I stood up under my own power, making no move to take his hand. He chuckled at me, to him I was just having a bit of a childish fit - which I was, but that wasn't the point - and just left, expecting me to follow. Rome the city was incredibly more advanced than any one of mine at the time. Every building was tall and made of stone, with columns bracing the front and embellished with art. There were people everywhere, all tanned skin and light, brightly colored clothing, chattering loudly in their foreign tongues.

Rome hadn't led me very far before he veered into a large building nearly identical to all the others on the street. I was still very weak from Boadicea's poisoning and just having walked the five minutes it took to get there nearly exhausted me. We went in and Rome led me to one of the closed doors. The room it opened up to had plain stone walls, with plain stone floors, a tiny window and a bed in the corner. Something which I would consider so little nowadays, but back then was more than I had ever owned before - having always shared a bed with someone who would take me in, or a corner by a hearth, or even out in the wilds.

'This is you cell Britannia.' Rome gave me the slightest shove inside. 'Whenever you are in Rome, this will be your home.' He smiled that gentle smile that I did not trust and closed the door as he left. I relaxed after he was gone and, tired as I was, headed for the bed. I had expected a mattress made of straw and was surprised to find it was filled with feathers. I very nearly cried then - I never really stood a chance in my war against a man who could casually provide something only the richest of my people could afford to a prisoner.

I slept that night wrapped in a blanket on the floor and in miserable dreams. When I woke stiff in the morning, someone had come in and left some food and water on a tray. As horrified as I was that I slept through anyone coming near me while I wasn't aware of them, the fact that I had not actually eaten in - I could not remember when - ages, the food disappeared quite fast.

Having eaten my fill and with nothing better to do, I fell back asleep. Not much later, I was being woken back up with a sharp slap to the back of my head. I yelped with more surprise than pain, staring at the new person invading what was supposed to be my room. She was an older lady - hair more silver than her natural black, skin the same tan as everyone from around here with just a few age lines on her face (mostly between her eyes and around her mouth). Instead of being bent over with age, her back was straight and prim, her toga unwrinkled and very white. She was also glaring at me with dark brown eyes as if I had done her some major slight.

'For being new, you certainly have a lot of daring.' her tone chilled me more than her words confused me. 'I leave a note -' she gestured to the tray (and a piece of thick parchment which was covered in little squiggles and lines I could not read) '-for you to join me, _promptly_, to discover what subjects you need to be tutored in, so you no longer embarrass your Master,' her voice, scarily enough remained icy but her voice became louder with each syllable, 'and here you are, lazing about like a vagabond!' She paused for breath in her furious rant to bend down and pick up the piece of parchment, shoving it in my face. 'Now, since you deemed in unimportant before, read it for me now.'

I stared at those lines, as if having them closer to my face would make it more possible for me to understand. It didn't. 'I apologize for any slights towards you Great Mother, but the only language I can read are the runes from my land.' My face had flushed scarlet with embarrassment as a look of understanding crossed her face.

'Ah. I see now. Then I must apologize as well. I merely assumed...' she coughed politely, before moving to settle herself on the bed. 'Perhaps a more suiting introduction. My name is Achaea, I teach the other Nations that come under Rome's rule, be it math, philosophy, reading, writing, religion, history, or law. Now that you are part of his Empire, your education in all things literal falls to me, whereas all that you may need to learn about weapons work or military practices will be done by Germania.' She paused for such a long time while staring at me, I finally caught the cue that she wanted me to answer in kind.

"Oh! Um... my name is Al-' there was a hand over my mouth and a stern look being sent my way.

'No Britannia. Whatever your name was before, and I do not want to know what it is, your name is different now. Try your hardest not to use it, especially in front of Rome. It would not end well for you.'

'I would never give my real name to Rome!' I scowled, earning me an odd look. I did not wish to explain Name magic to her, so I continued on. 'Alright. My name is... Britannia,' and _oh _was that ever sour in my mouth, 'and I really just wish that Rome had left me alone.'

Achaea looked sympathetic, even going so far as to pat me on the head. 'We all wish that Britannia. But Rome is... Rome.' she shrugged slightly, getting back to her feet. 'Well, there's nothing we can do about that. Now, come along, I wish to learn what you know.'

Apparently, I knew next to nothing. No math or philosophy, none of their religion or law, and I couldn't read or write their language. The only good that came out of my utter humiliation was that Achaea seemed to grow fond enough of me... I wondered if my mother had been anything like her. After she was finished with me, she took me outdoors, nearly all the way out of the city, to meet Germania. He was just as intimidating as the last time I met him, blonde hair held back in braids and blue eyes staring at me unblinking. Apparently he, unlike all the other Nations I would meet in Rome, wasn't conquered. Rather, he was allied with the Empire, with defense contracts in exchange for land for his people. He also trained the conquered Nations in self defense - another subject I had little experience in. I could wield a spear, use short bows and sort of use a sword - but my youth held me back. I didn't have the physical strength to stab someone through with a spear, nor fire long distance with a bow. I didn't have the reach to make using a sword effective either. It didn't seem to bother Germania too much though, or at least he didn't seem more annoyed than he perpetually was.

I met all the other Nations that belonged to Rome next. I had been expecting one or two - not around forty. We met them in what was our communal dining area. Most of the Nations there were full grown - whispering quietly amongst themselves when they saw me. But Achaea led me over to a smaller table nearest the window and there were three younger Nations there, though admittedly they were all in their early teens. The first was blonde, blue eyed and very pretty - and the only girl out of the three. The other two were very nearly identical, the first with tan skin, dark brown hair and brown eyes, the other was slightly taller and with greener eyes.

'Boys, this is Britannia. Britannia, these are Gallia, Hispania, and Lusitania. Take good care of him.' Achaea told them while pushing me into a chair. She walked off, joining the other adults, leaving me to the curious and amused gazes of the others. Then I realized that she had said 'boys' not 'boys and girl'.

During the meal, I learned that I did not like Gallia or Hispania. Gallia was Lady Gaul's son and liked to tease me on everything from my height to my hair to my eyebrows to my accent... you get the picture. Hispania and Lusitania were twins (Lusitania was the older of the two), and the younger liked to laugh and agree with everything Gallia said. Lusitania just rolled his eyes at them but didn't try to stop them or talk to me. Rome showed up once during the evening to show me off like some trophy - and I was distinctly uncomfortable when the entire room applauded him for the achievement. Gallia made fun of the fact that I only lasted eighteen years before I was taken over. That would be the first time I ever punched him, and would not be the last.

The next few years became rather routine despite my hopes that Rome's empire would collapse at any moment. I would get up in the morning, wash my face and eat before heading down to Achaea to learn how to read and write in Latin. In return (and when making sure Rome wasn't around) she wanted to learn my Runes out of curiosity. Afterwards, I'd spend some time playing with her baby - whom she hadn't named yet, wanting to wait for inspiration to come to her. He was cute, but almost always sleeping.

After spending time with her I joined the other three for arms practice and strategy class with Germania. I hated those classes - all three being taller, stronger and more practiced meant I was defeated almost always. Rome showed up frequently to spar with our teacher and while the other boys were in awe of both of them, I just became tired knowing that I couldn't compare to either one.

I was right that I didn't like Gallia or Hispania - the teasing from that first night continued on while Lusitania looked on. Gallia thought that it was cute that I fell for his tricks so easily. There was one time that he convinced me to grow my hair out - it looked awful. And the time with the river - though I did alright considering I could swim. All in all, it was a love-hate relationship between me and them.

But then, one year Rome came and took me away. He didn't explain anything, just stuck me on the back of his horse with a whole party of humans and led us off. We traveled until we hit water, and by then I was more than fed up with Rome, who wouldn't tell me where we were going. But at that point I figured it out for myself - I could feel my lands across the water. I was so happy I didn't even protest when Rome heaved me off our horse and just carried me onto one of his ships. As we got closer, my joy began to fade somewhat. Something felt... different. My feeling grew and was confirmed as we sailed up the coast past my white cliffs. First off, Londinium had been rebuilt bigger and (in Rome's opinion, not mine) better than before. When we docked at an actual dock and disembarked, I saw for myself that the people who lived on my land, in my cities were not my people. The populace was almost entirely tanned and speaking in Latin. The few of mine that I saw were merchants or slaves.

I stood beside Rome silently, taking in that... that disgrace as the horses were unloaded. The whole time, he kept a hand clamped on my shoulder as if I would run off at the first chance I got... and despite the fact that I would have, it was still horrible of him to assume such a thing. When we were back on our horse, Rome began a tirade of how improved my lands were, more efficient, less wild. I told him that meant it was less me.

'Well, that's the point, isn't it Britannia. You're too young to know how to take care of yourself. Someone has to show you the right way to do it.' he said as he ruffled my hair. I slapped his hand away with a huff and he laughed at me. As we rode on down the main street, a building on our right brought that weird feeling in force. Biting back my pride, I asked Rome what that one was. He looked startled for a moment as he turned to look at the one I pointed out, before a look of extreme distaste crossed his face.

'That, my dear Britannia, is a christian church, which should not be here.' he glared at it as we went by, but would not explain further. We finally stopped at one of the largest buildings in town and Rome told me that it was home to the Governor of my lands. I instantly did not like the man and throughout our short visit was everything up to and including rude to Quintus Pelituis Cerialis. He was nasty right back at me, complaining about everything from the weather to my 'heathen, backwater people'. Rome asked me why I didn't like him, but only laughed at me when I said that the only ones who should rule my island should be one of my people.

That night, I was kept awake by two things. The first and most insistent was that Rome and his nobles were having a loud party downstairs, the laughter, the chatter and the musicians making more noise than a war. The second kept me up even as the noise downstairs began to wind down. As I lay on the floor (I'd never actually slept in my bed back in Rome, preferring stone to my subjugators feathers - and also it was one of those little rebellions that helped me stay sane), all I could hear and feel was this near physical pull, practically whispering 'Come, follow me,' in my head. When dawn came - or at least I assumed dawn came when Rome arrived to wake me up, seeing as how I was given a room off of his with no windows and no other ways out - I hadn't been able to fall into more than a fitful doze all night.

Rome stared at me, laying on the floor and probably looking as exhausted as I felt and asked 'Why are you on the floor, boy?' I sat up groggily, rubbing at my eyes. 'I always sleep like this,' I muttered while stretching.

'Always? As in even back home?' he sounded a mix of amused and confused.

'Well, yes. The bed is too... Roman.' I said, hoping he caught the distaste in my voice. But, as I suspected, it either went over his head, or he pretended not to hear it.

'Riiight... well, that explains why you're so crabby all the time - you don't sleep much because you think a cold stone floor is more comfortable than a feather bed. Hey, if we put rocks in your bed, would you think it comfortable enough to sleep in?' he grinned as he teased me. I glared at him, knowing my cheeks burned red with embarrassment as I stomped past him, looking for somewhere to wash my face. He followed me the whole time and as mad at him as I already was, it wasn't helping. After finally washing my face, Rome dragged me off for some food - which was, thankfully something local. I can't even begin to speak about how much I had missed food from the North. Rome complained about how bad it tasted, but all that did was give me a small sense of victory - and then we were heading back for the horses.

Rome mounted up, but instead of shifting forward so I could get on behind him like before, he leaned back a bit. I looked up at him, puzzled, and the smile he gave me that time wasn't mocking or cruel. 'Hop on Britannia. You can sleep here until we get to the next town. I won't let you fall.' I must have taken too long, or my expression too weirded out, because the next thing I knew he had reached down and pulled me up there, settling me against his chest. I could feel my face turn bright red again and I think he pretended not to notice as he kicked the horse forward (and from where I sat, I could feel the muscles in his legs shift as he did that). I grabbed onto the leather of his tunic for balance as the horse quickly moved off - and one of his hands left the reigns to hold me in place. I was more than a little too creeped out to fall asleep like that.

'Hey Rome.' I asked him after a long (and from my perspective, awkward) pause. I stared up at his face, taking in the stubble, the mussy hair, the bone structure and finally his eyes as he turned to look down at me. 'Why are we here?' He guffawed, moving the hand that was pressing into my back up to my hair and petting it. 'I came to show you all the improvements I made. You saw Londinium - that was just the beginning! New cities and villages, bridges and roads spanning the countryside - just you wait and see!' he puffed up, as if I had asked him for those changes and he had managed to get them all done so fast it should not have been possible. I sighed and left it at that, the hand in my hair, the warmth he practically radiated and the steady gait of the horse lulling me to sleep.

In my dreams, I saw myself sleeping in Rome's lap as we rode on, But my dream perspective pulled back, going further and further into the forest by the road with such urgency I nearly missed the landmarks. And the whole while, I felt that same pull I had felt the night before - 'Come quickly! Follow me!' it nearly yelled. I stopped, and there was someone familiar standing beside me, someone I wanted to see. I turned to face that person and -

my eyes snapped open. I was still in the same position, though Rome had stopped petting me. The dream though stayed in my head, and as we passed this one patch of brush I came to the sudden breathtaking realization that I had seen it in my dream. 'Come quickly! Run to me!' jangled in my brain and before I knew it, I was jumping off the back of the horse and _running_ for it. I could vaguely hear Rome yelling for me, for the guards to chase me, but all I really paid any attention to was the landscape. Someone had Called me - I could feel the spell still tugging at my mind and I Called back 'Yes, I'm coming! I'm coming!'.

I burst through the brush into a small clearing, the sun just starting to cast it's light through over the tops of the trees. I gasped for breath, turning round and round, looking for the person who Called. Between one turn and the next, there was Cymru standing just inside the tree line. I grinned, happy like I hadn't been since our parting of ways, since Rome. 'Cymru!' I cried as I ran for him, hugging him around his waist, his arms coming up around my shoulders. I could hear his desperate voice apologizing for not helping, for not saving me sooner, asking if I was hurt, all in one breath. I was the same, stumbling over how happy I was to see him, how much I had missed him, how much he'd grown since I had last seen him even as I realized how my own language felt foreign on my tongue. He lifted me into the air with arms that were no longer gangly but well-muscled and spun me around while I laughed.

'You've grown, little brother!' he laughed when we could breathe again. I laughed until I cried, holding him close and hoping to never let go. 'We came to save you.' he added, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

'We?' I asked, my voice choked with tears. He loosened his hold on me to turn and point behind us. When I looked I could see, to my complete surprise, Yr Alban looking completely embarrassed by the two of us. He read the expression on my face and grimaced. 'Look, because you fell, Rome's been looking to take us over too, so I figured if you were back in the fight, you'd make a good shield for me.' he blustered. I couldn't tell whether that was the truth or not, but by Cymru's expression, it was a lie.

'He will not be a shield. He will be my spear.' a cold voice came from the opposite side of the clearing, where I had come from. Cymru held me tightly as we spun to see Rome there, looking angrier than I had ever seen him, with his guards standing behind him. Cymru growled, pushing me behind him as Rome advanced on us. 'He's not yours! He's our little brother and if you think we're going to let you push him around like tha-' Rome's punch across his jaw quickly silenced whatever threat my brother was going to issue as he fell down in a boneless heap. That's when I realized that no matter how big my brother had gotten, Rome was bigger and stronger. I was down on the ground, shaking Cymru, trying to get him up when Rome grabbed me by the back of my tunic and hauled me into the air. I was choking at eye level with him as he stared at me with those angry eyes.

'Please don't hurt him...' I gasped, while clawing at the cloth digging into my throat. He looked, if anything, even angrier, and he tossed me to his soldiers. They held onto my arms tightly while I gasped and struggled and cried. Rome in the meantime, had advanced on my unconscious brother, kneeling by his side and slapping him till he was nearly awake again.

'What makes you think you can order me around, you little bastard?' he snarled, pulling Cymru into a sitting position by his shirt. 'I'm the fucking Roman Empire, and who are you? You're nothing!' Rome punched him in the face as he let him go. Yr Alban was there in a flash, clawing at Rome's back, trying to pull him off. With one swing of his arm, Rome knocked my red-headed brother back into a tree. With one more flick of his arm, a half-dozen soldiers that weren't holding me back were chasing him off into the forest. 'You hear me? Nothing!'

With every punch, Cymru got weaker and before long, Rome's fists were coming away covered in blood. When he'd had enough of punching my brother, Rome reached down to his neck and squeezed. I realized with anger and horror that Rome intended to kill him. Something happened to me - I was filled with cold and fire at the same time. I stopped struggling, reached for my magic and Conjured Cold Fire. The flames appeared surrounding my hand - I couldn't feel it, but the guards holding me jumped back as if I had burnt them. With my arms free, I concentrated the Fire into my fist. And threw it at Rome. It hit his cape, which instantly burst into blue flames, licking its way up his back and towards his hair. He screamed - actually screamed - and threw his cape off, beating the back of his head with his hands to quell the fire there. I glared at him, fire dancing in my fist as he leveled a positively murderous look at me.

'Don't touch my brother.' I fairly commanded, the flames leaping and crackling with my anger. He stormed closer, bloody fists clenched at his sides, the sight of them fueling my anger even more. I threw another fireball, he dodged it and came up in front of me before I could concentrate enough to make another. His punch to my gut threw me into unconsciousness.

When I woke up, I was dizzy to the point of nausea with this really bad taste in my mouth and a horribly aching stomach. As I gained coherency, three things began sounding alarms in my head. The first was that I was on my bed - as in my bed, back in Rome. The second was that my wrists were tied to the bedposts and I was face down, legs tucked up underneath me. Lastly, I was completely naked, gooseflesh growing on my skin as I shivered. A chair scraped behind me and I turned as much as my stiff, aching body could to see who was there.

It was Rome, although he no longer looked as if he was going to kill me, the strange blank expression on his face actually chilled me more. 'So,' he started, hefting something in his hands. I stopped breathing when I saw it was a whip. 'you want to resist, do you Britannia? Threaten me, try to kill me, and for what? A no-name nation who abandoned you to me?' he laughed, once, and it was a very bitter sounding thing. 'This is what I do to my conquests who don't know their place.' And he brought the whip up above his head, it whistled down and -

Pain. Over and over again. I know I screamed - my throat was raw and there was something wet running down my back. A part of me knew that it had to be blood, but I couldn't think between those moments when Rome pulled the whip back and struck again. My whole back was afire, my shoulders nearly dislocated as I tried so hard to pull away, but with my wrists tied the way they were I could not and my leg muscles screaming from the unnatural kneeling position I was in.

I didn't realize right away when he stopped, every ache and pain throbbing with my heart beat. I was crying - sobbing actually, every breath causing more agony. I nearly had control of myself, when Rome put a hand on my jaw and turned my head to look at him. He'd discarded his clothes, though I couldn't remember when and I could see my blood splattered across his skin. He I I saw When I looked Oh God

(whole section scribbled out thoroughly)

_Sorry, it shouldn't be so hard to write this, it was so long ago. I think I can continue now. _(Section blotted out by liquid that if someone were to sniff it, it would smell like rum. Subsequent hand writing very messy.)

_That fucking bastard... seeing me all hurt and unable to defend myself got him hard. And he told me... he said 'And this is what I do to my conquests who use heathen magic.' And - Oh god, Austria, I hope this makes you as fucking sick as it does me - he he. He fucking raped me. I never hated anyone like him. Stupid, sick fuck shouldn't be allowed to have kids - have a fucking cock - he should have been made a eunuch. It hurt SO FUCKING BAD having that fucker rammed up my ass - no prep, no warning and he didn't go fucking slowly. And he didn't just do it once - fuck no. S'like every fucking time he saw how much he'd hurt me after he fucking came, he'd get hard all over again and fuck me all over again. He did it so many times... I fucking passed out a few times and he was STILL DOING IT when I came too. He really liked scratching my back - my back that he'd just fucking whipped and I came too once after he left. I looked back and down and oh god there was so MUCH blood I puked over and over and _(most of this section is blotted out by tears and illegible.)

I haven't been able to look at this in a while. Since I can't stand to look at... at that, I'm starting a new page. And so far that whole 'it helps to write it down' shit? Not. Bloody. Working.

I came back to full consciousness in a very odd position. Namely, on Gallia's chest, with Hispania and Lusitania curled up beside me on both sides, and wrapped in three pairs of arms. It was so wonderfully warm, just laying there and listening to them breathe in their sleep, not thinking of anything. Then I shifted the slightest bit and the burning pain in my back and my - my lower area assaulted me, not only forcing me to remember what happened, but forcing me to cry out in pain. Instantly, three pairs of concerned eyes were focused on me, three frantic voices gibbering over each other, making my head ache.

I must have done something, or made some kind of noise, because all three of them shut up at the same moment. Gallia poked Lusitania and whispered something to him, sending him running out. At the same time, Hispania shifted slowly so as not to aggravate my wounds and brought over a ladle of water. I realized with sudden clarity how thirsty I was and the water was so good. By the time I had finished it, Lusitania had returned - bringing with him Achaea, Gaul and Germania, the two women looking so concerned, but Germania... that was the first time I had seen the man so pissed off.

Lady Gaul shooed all three boys off while Achaea helped me slowly sit up with a light hand on my chest and the other on my shoulder. Between the two of them the bandages - which I hadn't noticed until they touched them, covering my entire chest and both shoulders - came off. I could feel the wraps pulling on my skin and all I had to do was look down while they were unwrapping to see them covered in dried blood. My blood.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting in Germania's lap, fresh bandages the only thing covering me other than a blanket that was pooled across our laps. He was mumbling a song in his native language - faintly guttural and well... slightly darker sounding than modern day German. It didn't bother me much, nor was the way he was absently braiding and unbraiding bits of my short hair while my head was on his chest. I wasn't afraid of him or intimidated. In fact, I was downright content to let him be that way forever.

'You awake?' he rumbled and I felt the vibrations deep in his chest. I chose not to speak, but I did nod. He sighed and left it at that for a long while. I must have dozed off, because the next time I opened my eyes Gallia was laying beside me in a bed that thankfully wasn't my own. I didn't see the twins from where I was laying, nor could I hear them anywhere nearby. Germania was gone.

'Hey there.' Gallia said softly, reaching up to stroke, of all things, my eyebrows. 'We were worried about you.' I shifted closer, careful of my back, which he took as me asking to be hugged. Which I was. I stayed silent, just relishing in the quiet for a while. Gallia, non-stop chatter box that he was decided to break the silence by continuing on. 'When Rome brought you back we were scared because you were unconscious. When we asked him what happened he hit Hispania - actually hit Hispania, do you believe it? - and just about kicked me before taking you upstairs.' His pace sped up, now that he could finally vent his story. 'We got out of there pretty fast and everything seemed pretty normal until Germania showed up with you all injured. Maman practically had a heart attack and wouldn't stop crying until Achaea came in and slapped her. It was weird. And then -'

I lifted one hand to cover his mouth, stopping his story abruptly. He looked down at me, mildly offended, but let it go by getting up and getting me some more water. Annoying prat that he was, I was glad to have him there, just as I was glad he never did ask me what happened. Time passed, my physical wounds healed, though my back became rather scarred, just like my mind - my sanity. I was never left alone, which I was grateful for, because they all kept me busy enough that my mind didn't have too much time to wander to... that. I also never saw Rome during that time, which I was even more grateful for - and I think I have Germania to thank for that.

There was one thing that never recovered - my magic. After I had healed enough to walk by myself, I made time to slip away unnoticed for a short while. I left just before dark, and secreted myself away behind Rome's stable before trying to cast a light spell. It worked - but only for a moment as a feeling of abject paranoia came over me, forcing me to look over my shoulder, making me lose my concentration. No one was there, but I swore that every time I cast a spell I could feel Rome's eyes on me - _'And this is what I do to my conquests who use heathen magic.' _I couldn't even finish casting for some of the bigger, longer spells because of that feeling - that fear that if Rome found out he'd do... _that_ to me again. I went back to Gallia's rooms disappointed and feeling dirty.

The next time I actually saw Rome, I was sitting beside Gallia, waiting for our turn to spar. Hispania and Lusitania were practicing with Germania yelling orders and corrections to the two while we watched. Just as our taskmaster ordered them to stop, Rome sauntered in, sword strapped to his back. I froze, those memories I had been able to bury rushing at me, forcing my eyes down lower despite the fact he was wearing his practice armor. Suddenly, a warm arm was wrapped around my shoulders, breaking me from my thoughts. I turned to stare at Gallia, his face a mask of concern. 'Are you alright? Your face went all white.' I shook my head, unable to speak and just shifted closer.

Rome came up beside Germania smiling that horribly cheerful smile of his. He ruffled Hispania's hair - I think that was the first time the younger man didn't laugh with him - and shooed Lusitania and him away. They dashed back to us, sitting on my other side. Rome watched them go, his eyes drifting over until they made contact with mine. My panicked face must have amused him, because he grinned and waved at me. 'Hello there Britannia! It's been awhile since I last saw you - how are you doing?'

I could literally feel Gallia tensing on my one side and the same from Lusitania on the other. It also pissed Germania off by the way he reached over and smacked Rome upside the head. 'Look, if you came here to spar, let's spar. Just quit bothering the kids while they're here.' Rome just laughed it off like always and swung around with his sword already in hand. They dueled - or rather, it started out that way. Even the four of us could tell it wasn't one of their usual practices. It was actually rather amazing to watch - Germania especially because the way he was fighting made it obvious that he was trying to seriously injure or kill Rome. I think Rome came to realize that because he started to fight back harder than before. It ended when Rome was disarmed - but Germania's sword became lodged in the ground. Both were breathing hard and glaring at each other with venom. They were about to throw themselves at each other again when -

'Boys! It's time for you to wash up for supper!' Achaea yelled from the entrance. All four of us jumped while the two older men seemed to... not relax, but just be less obvious about the fact that they were about to fight. We all shared a look before getting up, the twins running forward while Gallia kept pace with me, since I wasn't quite up to running at the time. Achaea ruffled both of our hair as she steered us away - just as angry voices began to yell from the arena.

It was a few days later that I was in Achaea's room, playing with her baby. The little boy had suddenly started to grow, had started to do more than sleep and cry and eat - at that moment he was struggling with a single-minded determination to stand up. He was using my arm to help tug himself up as I sat on the ground beside him. Achaea smiled down at the two of us from her seat as she read by the firelight.

'I don't understand though.' I said, breaking the silence we had between us. She looked down at us again with an expectant smile. 'Why does it take so long to grow up? Your baby has been... well, a newborn for so long and only now he starts to grow. I've been around for a long time and I only look like I'm ten. Gallia and the twins have gotten older since I came too, but we've stayed the same!'

She laughed, soft and happy, 'May I ask what brought this on?'

'Well I...' I paused, licking my lips nervously, 'I want to be bigger and stronger. I want it so badly, but I never seem to grow.' I sighed as the baby managed to get his feet under him and rise wobbling to his feet.

Achaea left her seat and sat on the floor beside us, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. 'Do you have the slightest idea how old I am? How old those three are? We weren't born a century ago. Us older Nations, we've been around for far longer than you could guess. And, to answer your question... the going theory, because none of us actually know exactly how we age, is that as our country grows we get older. Your people, the Nation you are, is still young. You can't expect your people to rush things. You will grow as they grow bigger and stronger - but do not rush it. I have seen a few Nations who rushed so much their civilizations crumbled and their people died out.'

'So... your baby is growing because his people have started to grow?' I looked up at her and she nodded. 'But... aren't your people the same?' She smiled, staring at her child and the firelight tinted her silver hair, giving it a dancing color. 'Yes, our people are the same. And yet, they are different. My people - the people of Achaea, are being replaced, slowly but surely, with a new generation. That's how our people exist - how all races exist. New ones are born to replace the old. So, someday I will die - but my baby will grow, will live and exceed, and that's all I can ask for.'

The nameless baby finally had enough balance, put one foot forward, and started to stumble towards his mother.

That idea bothered me - it made me think of my own mother. Did she know what was going to happen when I was born? Did she know that she was going to die? Did that really make me the murderer that Yr Alban thought I was? Those thoughts circled my head, but at the same time, I began to think of home. As much as I cared for some of the Nations that were living with me at the time, as much as being around Gallia, Lusitania and Hispania both annoyed me and made me happy, I wanted to go back to my own lands. Everything in Rome reminded me of Rome. And I did not want to think of Rome.

I also began to think of Cymru. I hadn't heard anything about him since I was forced to return to Rome. I know he had been hurt, but Rome never spoke of him, and I had no way to contact him as I was. I woke one night in my usual place - jammed between three warm bodies two of which were snoring. I didn't even have to think about it - before I knew it I was out of bed, with a stolen pack of clothes and food strapped to my back, and leading one of Rome's horses out of it's stall fully tacked. I was leading it over to a step up (because no matter how much I'd grown, I still wasn't tall _enough_) when I heard someone clear their throat behind me.

I literally jumped in the air and nearly screamed. As I twisted around, I realized that the one thing I had forgotten was to bring a weapon. At least, it wasn't necessary for me to have one - the person behind me was Germania.

'And where might you be going, boy?' he asked with his normal non-expression on his face.

'I'm leaving.' was the simplest and least informative answer.

'I can see that. Where are you going, though?' he smiled ever so slightly, coming closer and making a stirrup to help me up on the back of the horse.

'Home. I need to go.' I leaned down to kiss his forehead - it was really the only way for me to say 'thank you' for protecting me. I think he understood what I was trying to tell him because that little smile grew more. 'I see. And how exactly were you planning on protecting yourself? I already noticed you were unarmed.' he chided, making me flush.

'Err... I didn't really see the point. The only thing I can use is the bow or spear, but those aren't exactly _laying around_ on the ground. And-' I stopped talking as he reached behind himself and unclasped his own sword, handing it to me. 'G-germania, I can't accept this. For goodness sake, I can't even use the darn thing yet!'

He pat my leg and stepped back. 'Listen, boy. You will need that the second that Rome hears you've run away.' A cold chill ran down my spine, but no matter what happened, I needed to go. 'So you keep it with you and use it to the best of your ability.' I nodded, swallowed hard, and tied the scabbard to my belt.

'Goodbye Germania.' I told him as I turned the horse away.

'Britannia.' he said. I stopped and turned back, having in the nearly hundred years I had been in his company never heard him use my Roman name. 'Good luck.' I nodded again, waved, and kicked the horse, sending me off into the night.

It took me over a month to get back to my island. Not only was I being chased by Roman's (they never did find me though), but getting passage on a ship - especially without Roman consent was a bit tricky. I think my luck was with me briefly as I ran into Lady Gaul, who came and went from Rome, and promised to not tell our master that she had seen me, plus gave me passage on one of her ships going to my home in exchange for the horse that had kept me company during my trip. I was a little sad to see it go, but I wasn't going to argue with her.

When we landed in Londinium I spent no time at all getting out of that city and running into the forest. I was giddy - I was _home_ and no one was going to take me from it again. The Fae - my beloved Fae, came out to greet me asking me why I hadn't been around in a while. The best part was when they called me 'Albion.' In no time at all we were running together, laughing as if no time had passed, away from the cities filled with Romans, away from the subjugation of my people, just away from it all.

In all our wild running - or in their case, flying, stomping, galloping - we were free. Nothing reminded me of all the dark times... that is, until we hit a wall. The Fae didn't know what to think of it - it hadn't been there the last time they had headed north, but then again, these faeries were so flighty that the 'last time' might have been when we had all gone north and first met Yr Alban. That snapped me out of my happiness - because although I wasn't locked away anymore, I still wasn't free. There were still Roman's controlling my land and my people, the wall merely proved that. After skulking about, I was able to find out that this wall was called 'Hadrian's Wall' and it's sole purpose was to block off the 'Caledonian's' - which was the Roman name for Yr Albans people. I couldn't go through it, or around it or over it, so there was no real way for me to check to see if my oldest brother was alright... mind, I wasn't sure I cared at that point as he had just run away and left both Cymru and I to the hands of the Roman's.

Unnerved by the wall that seemed to have no end, I headed back south and west, searching for my other brother. With the Fae's help, I kept going further and further west until I hit the water. They told me he was 'over there'. As in, over on the island I had never been too. To the brother I had only heard of in passing. I couldn't go any farther though - I had no boat or ship or money I could gain passage over there. What could be worse would be that the missing brother 'Eire' could be just like Yr Alban. So, disappointed, I headed off into my land, trying to avoid major settlements.

As I traveled, I began to see a larger and larger community of Christians. Things like monasteries and temples were popping up all over the place. It made me sad that so many of my people began to believe in this God from another land - forgetting more and more of the old ways. At the same time, the Roman's seemed to like the Christians less and less up till the point where people started dying for their beliefs.

I made my way back to Londinium in time to catch some interesting news. Rome had started to fall on hard times - there were plagues, civil war and Germania, who had started to move in and conquer Rome's territories. There was even word that barbarians had sacked the capital Rome. I was ecstatic with the news - because Rome suddenly became too busy to try and hunt me down. My glee lasted until one morning I ran into Gallia - who was pulling into the harbor while I was braiding rope for some of my sailors on a post. I recognized him right away - even as one blonde head among many. He recognized me as well, he pulled out of the crowd and I was suddenly struck by how much taller he was then when I'd last seen him. He looked to be about sixteen, his hair had grown out enough that he could tie it back, and he looked... well, less like a girl and more like a really beautiful man.

'Britannia!' he nearly squealed in my ear as he hugged me. 'We've been so worried about you since you went and vanished!' I smiled rather tightly, hoping to any deity out there that Gallia wouldn't accidently tell Rome that he had seen me. I put down the rope and gave him a one armed hug back. 'I've been fine. I did a lot of wandering for a while before I settled down around here. How have you been?'

That was apparently the wrong thing to say as his sunny smile vanished and became bitter. 'Not so good. I don't know if you've heard but... maman is dead.' I blinked, completely shocked by this. 'What? How?'

'It... it was Rome. He killed her...' he looked near tears at that. 'When Germania found out he started that war with Rome and I left with Hispania and Lusitania while he was distracted but... that doesn't bring her back, non?'

'I... I'm sorry for your loss. She was a wonderful woman.' was all I could say, which wasn't much. He understood - he kissed me on both cheeks as a thank you. I turned bright red and spluttered at that and he laughed at me, like he had always done.

'But enough about me, look at you! You're still so tiny and adorable!' he practically cooed as he picked me up and twirled me around. I kicked him in the gut. 'W-what? I'm not _tiny! _Nor am I adorable you girly-looking bastard!'

That wasn't the last time that Gallia came to visit me over the years. He liked to pop up at random and throw his caustic remarks my way. He somehow managed to get letters from Achaea for me, letting me know how her baby was growing, how the political situation was going and how wonderfully exhausted Rome was whenever he stopped by. I never was able to send a reply - I lacked parchment and ink since I didn't have much in the way of money, and the only ones with that sort of thing were the Roman nobles... and as much as I would like to steal from them, it just wasn't a good idea.

For a short time, I was even part of a different Empire, called the Gallic Empire. Gallia asked me if I wanted to join him and the twins as a separate Empire. I agreed to it but mostly kept to myself while they fought on the continent. Like I said, it was only for a short time before Rome managed to disband it.

Then Carausius happened, followed briefly by Allectus. Those idiots proclaimed themselves Emperor's of Britain (without even asking me!) and northern Gaul and brought Rome's attentions (briefly) back to my island. When Rome arrived with his Emperor, he nearly caught sight of me amongst the crowds, but I managed to avoid his eyes. He looked... older. But not the regal kind of older, like Achaea. The kind of older that required lots of healthcare. His hair was starting to gray, his posture not so regal and he was even starting to grow a beard to hide the fact that his cheeks were gaunt. I admit that I'm a horrible enough person that I enjoyed seeing him brought low like that.

More time passed, Rome recovered somewhat as I saw more and more troops coming in and heading north to bother Caledonia. The troops that were in my country before amazed me - if only they had mutinied while I was being invaded, I probably would never had been under Imperial Rule. Despite all this, I began to spend equal amounts of time in the cities as in the country side - news from the continent was becoming more important what with there being a new Emperor ever couple of years as well as war and pestilence.

Then one morning I woke up far in the North in entirely different clothes completely disoriented. The last thing I remembered was being down in Portus Dubris herding goats with a few of the local children.

That wasn't the last time that sort of thing happened. After a while, I caught on to the problem. One of Rome's Emperor's thought it a good idea to divide Britannia into two sections - Upper and Lower. And those two sections were starting to fight against each other. I'm not sure if you're aware of this, Austria, but when your people split your state up, you still represent those areas, but as they begin to diverge in interests, you begin to develop a different 'you' to go with it. Basically, you develop Multiple Personality Disorder, and the other you has only one part of your lands interests in mind. It's actually quite confusing to go over when you think about it. But, again, I'm being distracted.

What really made that time interesting was when they split those two sections into two more sections... that's right - I had four different personalities crammed into my head - and _they were all fighting against each other._ I wouldn't recover from that particular illness for hundreds of years - until my country was unified again.

I watched as people became even more violent against the Christians and the Jews, fought more battles against the Caledonians without accomplishing anything and as Rome's Empire fractured in two. It was because of _that _that I met Constantine, who wasn't known as 'the Great' at the time. He first came to Britannia to fight those useless wars against Yr Alban for his father, who was one of the two Emperor's at the time. When Constantinus (the father) died, he named Constantine his heir. I was there at his coronation, standing closer to the front of the crowd to see. After all, I had never seen a Roman Emperor before, let alone one being crowned. It was loud - people, both Roman and mind were cheering and chattering at the tops of their lungs, people were playing instruments and dancing, animals were making noise. When he came out to give a speech though, the cacophony died off almost immediately as the people soaked up his words without question. I lost interest in what he had to say - after all, I didn't care about anything with the 'glory of Rome'.

So, when I started to leave and a couple of imperial guards stopped me from leaving by grabbing both my shoulders and steering me away, I wondered if I'd insulted the man by leaving. My attempts at running were easily thwarted - once again, I wished I was bigger and stronger - as they forced me into a large antechamber, with a large throne at the far end. After marching me part ways up towards it, the guards left me there, locking the doors behind them.

It didn't take very long for the door to be unlocked again, this time admitting, to my horror, the Emperor himself. He stalked past me, pretty much without acknowledging my existence besides a single careless glance. He practically threw himself into his throne with a sigh and literally tossed the crown that had been on his head onto the ground by his feet. I was a little bewildered. Weren't Emperor's supposed to act like... Emperor's?

After a long pause of me shifting my weight and trying to not look nervous (even though I was locked in a room with one of Rome's more powerful people), as he sat rather ungracefully with his eyes closed looking as if he were asleep. Shortly after I began to move towards the door in the vain hopes that it would be unlocked, the apparently not sleeping man spoke up.

'So... you are supposed to be Britannia?' he sounded more than a little disbelieving. I nearly jumped as I turned back around, heart beating a mile a minute.

'Ah - wh-what are you talking about? My name isn't Britannia it's' I tried to look innocent and lie my way out.

'Do not bother with that sort of behavior child, Rome circulates your picture to all of his nobles.' he drawled out, pulling a small, hand sized portrait of me out.

'Oh.' I shifted nervously, my expectation that Rome was going to burst through the door escalating. 'Th- then why did you even ask?' I asked, not bothered by the petulance in my voice.

'It was a rhetorical question I was asking myself, for I could not believe that such a small, filthy child could represent any State, let alone one held by Rome.' as he said that, he looked me up and down. I became distinctly aware of the fact that I hadn't bathed in a while (the lakes and rivers were still rather icy and I wasn't going to chance going into a Roman bath), and before I had come for the coronation, I had been helping a family plow their field and sword practice. So, my skin was a darker shade from all the dirt, my clothes were filthy and my hair was matted with sweat.

'I'm not small, I'm growing.' I said as my skin flushed with my embarrassment.

'Indeed.' he smiled as he stood up. 'Then, little growing one, let us get you a bath and some clean clothing.' he came towards me and held out his hand. I hesitated as I looked up at him.

'I...' I stuttered, trying to think of a way out. 'Well... you... you won't tell Rome you found me, will you?' I asked him and the sheer desperation in my voice made him frown.

'Well, let us see. I am now the Emperor, as such, I represent Rome and Roman interests. Britannia is now under my jurisdiction.' he paused and smirked at me, 'So that means that Rome has already been informed and the information needs go no further.' He laughed at my astonished face, and took that moment to reach down and grab my hand.

Constantine had a giant bath house all to himself, covered with gold leaf and rose colored marble. The air smelt of soap and herbs, which he mixed liberally with the warm water of the bath. He insisted on staying - his excuse was that being a little boy a bath for me consisted of 'hopping in the water and out again, not actually scrubbing'. I tried insisting he get out - promising I wouldn't behave like an actual child, that I didn't need supervision. In actuality, I had developed a bit of a phobia - I was horribly uncomfortable with the idea of having my clothes off in front of an adult. Well, mostly just adult males, but that is perfectly justifiable.

Anyways, nothing would deter him and in the end, he told me he'd just toss me in, clothes and all if I didn't comply. Which actually did happen, as horrified as I was at the time. I have to admit, at least he allowed me decency of not stripping while someone stared at me by turning around. I hunched down into the water, covering as much of me with soap suds as I possibly could. I thought everything was fine as I set to scrubbing as quickly as possible - but then the water was disturbed by a body getting into it. I froze - knowing that there was a large, probably naked man sitting behind me reminded me of times I'd really have rather forgotten.

And then he touched my back and asked me 'Where did you get those scars?'

The next thing I remember, I was huddling in one of the far back corners of the bath house, shaking with fear, the air in the room no longer smelling of sweet herbs and soap, but of vomit and sweat and the faint metallic scent of blood that made me want to retch. Constantine was standing a fair distance away, with a soaked towel tied around his waist and long scratch marks marring his chest, with a bruise forming on his abdomen shaped a little like a foot. He was talking, but my ears were ringing and all I could hear from him was noise.

With a sudden shift, I could hear again, my shaking slowed and I could breathe again. I groaned, getting out of the crouch that was causing my body to ache. 'What happened?' I asked, despite the fact that I didn't want to know.

'You had some sort of attack.' he replied after a long pause. He cautiously came closer, as if afraid he was coming closer to a wild animal liable to attack him. 'Are you better now?' He knelt down beside me and placed a hand, ever so cautiously, on my head.

"I... I think so.' my throat hurt really rather badly and my muscles were stiff and shaky at the same time, but other than that, the only problem was I was still naked.

'Alright then. Let us finish cleaning you up, then perhaps some food will help with any lingering effects.' his voice was calm and soothing as well as rational, so I nodded. He helped me back into the tub, but this time he didn't join me, just stayed on the side, scrubbing my hair and using a cloth to wash my back, making very sure that no part of his skin touched me.

He seemed a lot quieter after that - not so much quieter in speech, but in personality. Less abrasive, but more considering, more questioning. I'm glad he didn't ask - I didn't have answers that I wanted to think about. His promises of food came out filled with Roman stuff I hadn't eaten in ages, but I didn't argue - however long that fit of mine lasted it had exhausted me, all I could really do was eat it mechanically before falling asleep.

I woke up with my head on the soft purple silk that made up Constantine's robe. Which he was still wearing. My attempts at unobtrusively leaving were thwarted by an arm coming down across my shoulders - he wasn't as asleep as I'd originally thought.

'I understand that you do not wish to return to Rome.' he said after a short pause of staring at me. 'And I understand that you do now wish to remain here.' he continued, cutting off anything I could say, 'but I wish for you to remember that you may come here and be welcome at any time. Even if just for a bath and a meal.'

He let me go then, and kept his promise. I will admit that he was the only Roman leader that I actually liked to an extent - despite the fact that he was rude and forceful. We talked quite a bit, never about Rome though - he once tried to convert me to Christianity, but thankfully quickly realized that his belief's were not going to change mine, so he dropped it. He left quite often for war and left for good when he became the sole Emperor of all the Empire. I was sad when he left and worse when he died, but I was getting used to mortals and their short life spans, so while it hurt, it wasn't debilitating.

Just shortly after Constantine's death I was woken one winter night to the sounds of death and pain and that feeling in my head that told me a large amount of my people were dying - both in the city I was in and throughout all of Britannia. I had been curled up by the hearth of an inn, wrapped in my cloak, but the moment I heard screams I reached for my sword even before I was awake. Not that it made much of a difference - the inn's door was kicked in and a group of foreign soldiers burst in. I swung my sword, but it was knocked away and out of my hands. A swift punch to my face left me dazed, and I was dragged out of the inn and into the street by my hair with little resistance.

The screaming was so much louder outside, but it was mixed with laughter and whooping and foreign languages and made my head hurt more than my hair being pulled. The soldier finally let go of my hair - by throwing me face down into the dirty road and laughing at my yelp of pain. My nose, which had been bleeding a little after being punched began to stream, while the whole right side of my face and my hands were scraped raw. I was turning over to fight back when the man sat on my legs and pushed me down flat. I could feel his erection through both our trews and it made - still makes me- sick that someone could become aroused at killing and raping and listening to other people being killed and raped. I screamed bloody murder - tried to punch, to kick to scratch now that I didn't have my sword, _Germania's sword_ - but he was bigger, and a fully trained warrior, and I didn't stand a chance.

I looked around for help - surely despite all my people (and Rome's people, though so many of Rome's people had become a part of mine...) there would be someone to save me. There was someone, but he would be one of the last people to try and save me. He was standing just across the street, tall and thin, straight backed and proud. The building behind him was on fire, setting his red hair off like waves of glowing blood and even as I struggled with my attacker I could tell his eyes were green. I could feel it in the back of my head, that sensation that just says 'that person is _like me_'. He was my missing brother - he was Eire.

And he wasn't going to help me. He stood and watched me struggle, and _laughed_. I was right, he was like Caledonia... except he tries even now to be worse. I could feel something similar to that panic attack I'd had with Constantine coming on again when out of the smoke rushed Cymru. I was filled with so much relief - Cymru was alive and okay! - when I noticed he was carrying a sword, covered in blood. And he was talking to our brother, not attacking him. That's when I realized that he was on the other side. Something cracked in me, I could practically feel it. Worse than when he'd told me to leave him all those years ago. This was him, _knowingly betraying me_.

I had stopped fighting when I realized exactly what was going on, by the time I came back to myself, my shirt was nearly torn off entirely, while my trews were just barely hanging on to my hips. The panic I had been fighting came screaming back and for me, between one blink and the next for me, there was a sword sticking out of the man's chest through his back, while Cymru and Eire were standing next to us arguing loudly - and Cymru's sword wasn't in his hand anymore.

With a shudder, I shoved the man's corpse off me, his blood covering my skin and soaking through the remnants of my clothes. I scooted back until my back hit a wall, shaking so badly the world vibrated around me. Desperately, I tried to wipe off as much of the blood off my chest, even as it smeared between my fingers and the blood from my face dripped down into the mix. I think I was crying since my vision was wavering. The argument had stopped between my two brothers and they both stalked towards me. I think I tried to say my brothers name, but all I can really remember of that moment was a horrible pain in my head as Eire brought his sword down on my temple. Then, nothing.

When I woke, all I could feel was my aches throbbing. The pain was intense - from my temple all the way down the right side of my face, my nose and eyes, my back and chest, my hips and hands (which were tied together behind me with some very scratchy rope). I managed to open my eyes a crack, fighting against the blood that caked my lashes shut. Wherever I was, it was blessedly dark and cool despite all the other discomforts. I don't remember how long I laid there in such a dazed state - from how hard Eire had hit me, I think I may have had a concussion. Time kind of blurred for me, because the next moment, there was a foot kicking me in my side to get my attention and a bright light burning into my sensitive eyes.

'Are you paying attention now, brat?' a very familiar voice commanded but my eyes couldn't focus on the face. I tried to ask 'who' but it came out rather slurred and incomprehensible even in my own ears.

'The fuck are you trying to say, murderer?' and even though I still couldn't force my eyes to focus I knew who it was instantly then.

'Yr Alban?' I croaked out, my throat was killing me. A sharp slap across my face sent my head into the wall behind me - and stars sprung up behind my eyes as all my pain spiked with the new pain.

'You don't have permission to use my Name!' he yelled, practically pouncing on me with his fists. I couldn't fight back, my hands were tied and my head was so disjointed that everything spun wildly and I was trying yet again not to vomit. 'You'll never have my permission you Roman whore!'

There were shouts behind him and miraculously, he was pulled off me - I curled up into the smallest ball I could even as it aggravated all my injuries. My face was wet with blood and tears and my wrists were being rubbed raw by the coarse ropes. All the noise was abruptly cut off as a door slammed, and I was left to myself in the dark.

I must have passed out, because the next thing I could remember, I was laying on the ground stretched out, my head in someone's lap. A wonderfully cool cloth was dabbing at my face, but I couldn't force my eyes open to see, or get my mouth to work to say thank you. I think whoever it was realized I was conscious - my head was levered up and a wooden cup of the very same cold water came up to my lips. As much as I wished to gulp it down, the person wouldn't let me, so slowly I was able to drink.

I came too again later, but my head didn't hurt and my eyes could focus properly. Because of this, I noticed right away that my hands were untied and my legs and feet uninjured. It only took a moment to get to my feet and wobble over to the closed door. It wasn't locked - either they thought I was too injured to escape, or someone was trying to help me. There weren't even any guards, for goodness sakes! I crept down the hall, not recognizing the building I was in, hoping to find an exit. The first door I ran across, however, wasn't a way out, but the dining hall. There were people in there, enjoying a meal they had stolen from my people. And up at the head table were my brothers and their leaders. The three of them were laughing amongst each other, sharing a fraternity that I was never and would never be allowed to participate in - I felt horribly left out back then... I do not feel that bad about it anymore, even as my relationship with my elder brothers continues to be unstable.

The worst part, the part that struck me as as much of a betrayal as Cymru being there? My eyes traveled past my brothers, because there were other leaders there - blonde ones. And who should I see amongst them? Germania. _Germania. _The man who had helped me, who encouraged me to be free, who gave me a sword to defend myself. And now, he was one of the Nations subjugating my people - had killed and raped my people, stolen from me. My grip on the doorframe tightened to the point that my nails were going into the wood, leaving little crescent dents as a representation of my grief. He looked up then, straight at me and his eyes widened in recognition. I ran, even as an alarm sounded behind me - as he betrayed my trust even farther.

(I have to say, even today I'm not sure exactly what I meant to him. He seemed to care a great deal about me while I was under Rome. And yes he did help me escape. But, thinking of it from a political standpoint, and maybe it was all him trying to attack Rome in the only way he could while his treaties still stood. But the answer to this, I won't ever know.)

I ran out into the night, through confused and startled soldiers just lazing about drinking. I managed to get out of the building before anyone was prepared to close the gates - before anyone heard the cries of outrage coming from inside. I was dodging into the forest, light footed and soon joined by my Faerie friends who thought this was a game. The laughed and flew, telling me to run faster, calling out objects in my path so I could avoid them.

I began to feel this strange itch at the back of my neck, as if someone was watching me as I ran. When I cut through a field in my mad dash, vaulting over the corpses of the family who rented the farm (father, mother, two sons and a daughter - mother was pregnant with a child who wouldn't ever be born my mind told me even as I ran.) that I found out what that feeling was. Birds, ranging from swallows to hawks, small to large, suddenly dive-bombed me, attacking my head and face as I ran. Someone was cursing me and by the feel of it, that particular feeling/flavor of magic, it was Yr Alban.

I swatted at them, trying to keep them off my face without slowing down. The Fae came under attack as well, the first few falling to talons and beaks with high pitched wails, the rest fleeing, probably afraid for the first time in their lives. Without them to spot my way, I was quickly falling down an incline, having tripped over a log and slashing my leg. I hit the ground at the bottom of the hill, dazed and breathless. The birds took that time to hit me harder - all I could do was cover my head as they scratched at my arms. One enterprising hawk landed on my chest and began picking at my arm and it hurt _so badly_.

I thought I was going to die there, a victim to a harmful curse when I heard the first howl. At the moment, I thought that it was reinforcements for the birds - no animal that howled that loudly or wildly could be friendly. I was proven wrong as this massive body came down over mine, not stepping on me, but protecting me. With a snarl, this creature bit and clawed at any bird that came close - which they all did, bespelled as they were to attack me. When the ground was littered with the corpses of birds, but the sky, still dark and now so quiet was free of them did the animal get off of me. It was a massive black dog, with long matted fur (matted with blood, my mind registered) and glowing red eyes. It opened it's mouth, revealing fangs as long as my hand. I thought it was going to eat me for a moment before it threw it's head back with a doggy grin and howled with obvious triumph.

I was really weak by that point - I hadn't eaten in a long while and only a small amount of water in the same amount of time. I was injured and bleeding from many new gashes. I couldn't even stand by that point - the gash on my leg was deep and painful, my head was starting to swim anew. I felt a rough tongue swiping along my cheek, lapping up the blood and tears. I tried to protest, but my world was fading fast.

When I woke up I was in, of all things, a bed made of the softest moss I'd ever sat on. Except that normal moss was a deep green - this stuff was nearly a shade of purple. I looked around and all the flora in the little gully I was in was all off - in color or texture or shape or size. The next thing I noticed was that I wasn't in any pain - namely because all my injuries were healed. And to top off all the bizarre things that had happened since I awoke, the soft sunlight filtering down into the gully suddenly switched to night - no sunset in between, it was as if the sun had just been blotted out.

As the sounds of night started up - soft chirps of small night animals and rustling in the trees - the Black Dog from before materialized into sight right in front of me. It let out a happy whine, wagging its massive tail as it padded towards me.

'Did you bring me here?' I asked, looking into those red eyes. It nodded it's head - and if the 'coming into the visible spectrum' hadn't clued me into the fact that this dog was one of the Fae, the fact that it understood human speech (despite the fact that it couldn't talk) was my answer. 'Thank you then.' I reached up and scratched it behind the ears and around the back of it's neck. It almost purred like a cat with happiness, giving my face another lick with a sandpapery tongue.

'Is that the new boy?' a high pitched voice giggled from above our heads. I looked up, noticing for the first time the little lights floating around our heads - and at our feet, little creatures were coming up out of the ground and out of the trees. The little ones -sylphs and brownies, gnomes and dryads - descended on me, wanting to touch some part of me before laughing and disappearing once more. The Black Dog seemed amused by this, flopping down beside me and taking up my entire lap with it's head.

'Is he the King's? Or is he the Queen's?' a particularly nosey sylph questioned the Dog, floating upside down.

'King? Queen?' I asked, having never heard of Faerie nobility.

'Oh yes, the King and the Queen. They like to take mortals as part of their Courts as entertainment. Which one do you belong to, Mortal boy?' the little one darted around my head with excitement.

'Neither. As far as I know.' I told the Faerie, who looked disappointed. The Dog looked up and growled, sending the sylph zipping away on the wind. The smug look on it's face made me laugh. We sat there for a while, just enjoying being in such a strange place, when the Dog suddenly got up, and with a tug on my tunic (which until then I hadn't noticed was new. I also had new trews, boots and a long green cloak like I used to have in my childhood) pulled me to my feet and dragged me along. As we walked, my ears caught the sounds of distant arguing. Curious, I pulled up beside Dog, who stood taller than me at attention.

'I'm telling you, the boy is mine - I found him, I claim him.' a male voice said, filled with aggravation.

'And I'm telling you I have claim on him because of his mother.' a female voice argued back, sounding even more annoyed than the last. I was a little nervous walking in on what sounded like something that was about to escalate into a brawl, but with a sudden shove from Dog's nose, I stumbled out into the clearing that two tall elves stood in. They both noticed me immediately, the argument shutting off for the moment as they rushed over to my side.

'Oh look darling, he's awake!' the lady cooed, petting my head. 'How are you feeling? Did we Heal you properly? Everything in the right place? I swear, you mortals have the most complicated bodies I've ever had to-'

'Are the clothes acceptable?' the male interrupted her, 'Those rags you were wearing needed to go, but are the colors to your liking? Green is so striking on you, with your eyes! Oh, and don't worry about that curse that was on you, I took it off. But those boots, are they a good style for you? I mean, you'll have some room to grow in them, but if they're too big, you humans seem to start to injure yourselves and...'

I was a little overwhelmed by the constant talking the two did - over each other, and their voices rose as each was trying to be heard over their partner. Despite all the questions they were asking, I never once got the chance to answer any of them.

Now, here's the thing about what most people these days call the 'High Court' elves. They think humans are... not brilliant, but creative. They love new things, and humans bring out new stuff faster than anything an elf ever could. So, they like to imitate people. When I first met these two, the King and the Queen, they had no names, but had decided one day to be King and Queen because the humans had them, and was a title that appealed to them. When Shakespeare began to involve the Fae in his plays, especially when he mentioned names for them - Titania and Oberon to be exact, they thought that those names were so interesting that they adopted them as permanent names. Until that point, they changed names on whim - there was a brief period of time when the King was calling himself Aelfred, after my great King, while the Queen wanted to be Mary. And just recently, there was brief time when the King was telling everyone to call him Legolas and the Queen wanted to be Arwen _just because_ the elves in Tolkein's book had those names. _Elves. _They remind me a bit of Poland, without all the 'likes' and 'totallys'.

The Queen cut to the chase pretty quickly. 'So, I know you just woke up and just met us, but I'm sure you can tell right away that you like me better than _this_ idiot,' and she waved a hand imperiously over to the King, whose face was flushing an angry scarlet, 'and I want you to join my Court. Does that appeal to you?'

'Now hold up just a minute, Queen. He clearly wants to be part of my Court, not yours. I mean, look at him. You're scaring him with your unfeminine attitudes!'

The two of them looked like they were about to come to blows when the Dog came out of the trees and barked sharply once. The two elves jumped a little, staring at the massive black dog, who came up behind me and curled around my body.

'Oh. He belongs to you.' the King said, sounding horribly disappointed, while the Queen turned around and kicked a rock angrily into the bushes. Dog made some kind of whuffing noise that must have signified 'yes'.

'Do I not get any say in this at all?' I asked all three of them. The Dog whined as the other two went back to arguing who got to keep me. With a sigh and a tug on my sleeve by the Black Dog I left them to it.

When I woke up hours later, it was still night. It took a while for me to realize that this Realms time and seasons depended on what the Queen wanted. It could be night for weeks and summer, and the next moment be a bright sunny winter day. The Dog wasn't around at the moment, the ground behind me where it had slept wasn't even warm meaning it had been gone for a while. I settled back against a tree and took a moment to think. My brothers and Germania all attacked my home. They killed my people and kicked Rome out. But that meant I went from being under someone who would hurt me for disobeying him to being under people who would hurt me just because I existed. And there wasn't much I could do to defend my land - I had no weapons, no army to defend and my magic wasn't working properly. In other words, either Rome saved me - something I really didn't want, or I continued to hide, abandoning my people, something that made me feel horribly guilty. I should not be safe and free while my people were enslaved. Or I could surrender to my brothers and try to bargain for my people's safety - something that I hated, but was coming towards being the only viable option.

I felt so defeated. Why did everyone have to bully me? Suppress me and grind my hopes of freedom into the dirt? Even those I cared about had turned against me. I didn't even realize that I was crying until a large tongue licked my cheek and my tears running down over that were incredibly cold. Dog was back and curled around me, warming me and disbanding my feeling of loneliness.

When I stopped crying, Dog got up and picked up something it had put on the ground to comfort me. It was a bow, a longbow to be precise, just as tall as I was. It was made from elm and incredibly ugly - as if an elm tree had just grown out a branch in the perfect shape of a bow, but covered in knots and bark. It was polished, setting off the grain of the bark. It offered it out to me, pushed it into my hands really, as if to say 'so, you want a weapon to defend yourself, huh?'. Next came a quiver filled with arrows and a pouch filled with drawstrings. As I took all three gifts, Dog panted and grinned at me - I couldn't help but smile back. That was it's way of telling me that I didn't need an army to defend myself, or magic. That was why it gave me a bow made of elm - it symbolizes strength - well, not just strength, but fighting, defending to the very end when all seems hopeless.

I practiced, long and hard, rubbing the skin on my fingertips raw and straining the muscles in my arms until it hurt just to lift my arms. I learned to fletch arrows, string the bows without looking and quickly and my aim improved exponentially. The King and Queen, when not arguing would cheer me on - by having the humans in their Courts offer advice and technique and by encouraging me to use magic, which while I still couldn't bring myself to cast large magics like the one I used to catch the dragons or anything to do with fire, I started to be able to do them again. I got better slowly, and when I was finally ready, Dog led me out of the forest. It was strange - one minute we were in an ancient forest, then a field, beside a lake and finally on a road in what I could tell was my lands by the feeling of it. It was disorienting going through all those sudden shifts, but with the Dog at my back I managed to stay on my feet.

Without wasting any time, I headed for the nearest village looking for a fight. So, it was with considerable concern that when I got there, there was no sign that I'd been invaded by my brothers at all aside from the fact that there were some new buildings since the last time I'd been there. That was the first time I'd ever encountered Faerie magic. See, the Fae realm exists on it's own time - you could go into their realm and come out at the same time as when you went it. Or, you could be hundreds of years ahead, or even a few years _back_. It turned out that I missed the whole fight by a few years - Rome had come in and kicked all four of them out and set things back to normal. I had even missed when another self-proclaimed Emperor came out and took over - his name was Magnus Maximus and he had made one very large change. In his campaign to take over the whole Roman Empire, his troops that he kept it Britannia were removed - from Hadrian's wall, to my border with Cymru, there were only the bare bones of his units remaining.

After his death, there was a short lived series of Kings and Emperors declaring themselves my leaders, with none of them actually doing anything to be worthy of the title. The only good that came of that was that there was a general by the name of Stilicho who came in and trained my people into troops - giving them the ability to defend themselves and naming some of them chieftains so that we had leadership.

Then there was word from the continent that Germania had invaded the Western Roman Empire. And Rome couldn't push him out. That was when Constantine the Third - nothing like that Constantine that I respected - took all the remaining Roman's with him and left to fight. And not even a few months later was I attacked on three sides yet again - Cymru and Eire from the west, Yr Alban from the north and Germanian pirates from the east.

I was torn between where I should go. I wanted to go see Cymru, to find out exactly why he was attacking me now. I wanted to go get my revenge for the curse that Yr Alban threw at me. I wanted to defend myself from the foreign invaders - because even though my brothers weren't part of me, they were still at least _my brothers._ In the end, I was up north, putting my hard work towards learning the bow and arrow against my eldest brother and being disappointed by the lack of success. I think I worried him though, showing up and nearly shooting him, as well as killing some of his men.

When I returned to the south, injured but with Yr Alban retreating to lick his wounds as well, I discovered to my joy, that my people (even those who had been Roman citizens now saw themselves as mine, and I could feel them, like newborns in my head) had overthrown the officials that Constantine the Third left to dictate my lands. And then Germania took over Gallia and, from what Gallia told me later, killed Rome. I was free. Free!

Free to defend myself from attacks on all sides with no help going to come. Dog seemed to enjoy itself - every battle I fought against my brothers and Germania I could see it dancing amongst the warriors killing our enemies and tasting their flesh. Actually thinking about it, I think the Black Dog was what intimidated my brothers instead of my actually fighting back. They certainly stopped trying to fight me at night, when the Dog could come out to play. Every time I turned my attentions to one side of the fight though, one or more of the other sides would collapse inwards and my attentions would be diverted. I couldn't keep up - I was exhausted all the time and becoming more injured with each petty war. I was losing.

One long night, Dog dragged me back across to the Other World against my will. I wasn't strong enough to even begin to protest other than vocally so it was inevitable that I ended up facing the King and Queen - both still arguing. When they saw me, both stopped arguing immediately - that didn't mean they stopped talking though, both going a mile a minute as they took over dragging me for the Dog. I quickly found myself in different clothes, smelling strongly of flowers with all my visible wounds healed. I was laying in the shade of an elm tree, moss making a comfortable bed on the ground and in between the King and Queen with the Dog at our back keeping us warm.

'So, how goes the war?' King asked as he carded his fingers through my hair. My head was resting on Queen's shoulder - at least it was, until she used that arm to smack King.

'Idiot! It's obviously not going well! He didn't get hurt like that just tumbling down a hill!' They squabbled over my head for a long moment, arguing over how badly I was losing. It was rather depressing actually, the Fae had no idea, nor did they care to know, how hard just keeping as together as I was. I could feel parts of me being occupied even now by other people - could feel in the back of my head all those lives that I was losing. I closed my eyes and tried to block them out - block everything out. I began to realize how much I couldn't keep doing this myself. And the traitorous thought 'I wish Rome were still here' wormed its way into my head. My hands came up to my hair, gripping it tightly, hoping that even that small pain would destroy that thought. How desperate was I becoming that I would think that?

A sharp bark startled all three of us - me out of my morbid thoughts and the two Fae out of their argument. Dog glared it's red eyes accusingly at King and Queen, before gesturing with its head towards me. They both paused for a long moment, staring at me blankly as if they'd already forgotten I was there.

'Oh dear!' Queen exclaimed, removing her fist from King's head and coming down to offer me a hug. 'We shouldn't have said those things! I apologize, little Albion.'

King looked disgruntled that she'd managed to apologize first, but moved before me and got down on one knee while kissing my hand. 'I also apologize for our bad conduct. Is there anything I can do to make up for the slight?'

The flush that grew on my face as he kissed my hand faded and I could feel the frown on my face growing deeper. 'I only wish there was something you could do to help me in my fight... I just feel like I'm surrounded and every time I try to stop one of them, the others take advantage of that and push farther.' I choked, covering my eyes with my hands. 'I fear I'm going to be beaten again, when all I want is freedom.'

'You could always stay with one of us.' Queen said, with the faintest touch of a hand on mine.

'I cannot keep hiding. My people are fighting and dying to keep me free. Running away won't save them.' I didn't have the words to teach them how much our people meant to us, for the Fae have nothing to compare - they'd always prefer to fly than to fight. 'What I need...' and I struggled to understand what I needed. 'What I need isn't just freedom... it's unity.' as I said it something in my head just clicked. I couldn't defend myself if every chieftain of mine was only concerned with their own people, never going out of their way to communicate and defend the others. That was how my brothers were able to get away with as much as they had. 'I need a King.'

'We can help with that. Easily.' King said, sharing a look with Queen. I was thrown for a loop as she nodded as if making good rulers was the same as... as washing her hair.

'What? How?' I asked, suspicious.

'Magic.' Queen said as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe. 'We take something and make it into what we want all the time.'

'I bet making a human would take a lot of something though.' King looked thoughtful, working out in his head the kind of sacrifice necessary to make my wish come true.

'Making a baby would be easier!'

Their enthusiasm was as bewildering as their personalities, going from fighting one moment to plotting together quite easily. Dog licked my chin as if to say that everything would be okay again and I wish I could say that I believed it. But I was tired and my optimism was fading.

'Albion?' the Queen brushed my hair behind my ear to get my attention. 'We have figured it out.' At my questioning look, she returned it with a slightly sad smile. 'To make this is going to be a large sacrifice on your part. Do you think you are up to it?'

I didn't know what she wanted of me for that - I had almost nothing left to myself. 'What do I have to give?'

'Well, you see, King and I think it's best if you give up your magic.' She shushed my alarm with a finger over my mouth, 'Not all of it, we wouldn't ever do that to do. But to be honest there's that big part of your magic that you refuse to use anymore - that and your fire. It should be enough to make what you need.'

As much as I didn't want to give up that part of me, I realized that that was what sacrifice meant. Giving up something you didn't want to. I thought about it really hard and remembered the fear. How even trying to use my strongest spells, how using my fire made me feel - to not be able to use that power, would it remove the fear as well? If making myself weaker would in the end make myself stronger... After a long moment of silence, I agreed.

I had no idea how they were going to take the magic from me. In the end, I didn't even need to move, in fact, they insisted I try and relax against the Black Dog and close my eyes. It didn't stop the excruciating pain as an intrinsic part of me was severed. I woke up moments later covered in a cold sweat against the burning heat of Dog's side. I reached for my magic, for the ley lines and the nodes. I felt my magic, but it was so much smaller... I couldn't feel the lines let alone the nodes. It left me feeling... empty. I looked to King and Queen and saw with a surreal feeling those missing parts floating in the air - one large and glowing brightly, the light around it bending and wavering into little flashes of rainbows, while the second was vastly smaller but burning like a living flame and just as bright.

'I thought... we were only making one...' I asked as I tried to catch my breath.

'So did we, but the moment we cut the magic out it split in two... and now whenever we try to put them back together...' King explained, pushing the larger one towards the smaller...

I woke up again listening to the Dog bark angrily at the two Fae. They were trying to apologize, holding the two parts of me well apart just in case. 'That happens.' he finished when he noticed I was awake and the Dog no longer looked as if it would rip them to shreds.

'What does that mean?' I said as I lay there exhausted.

'I'm not sure, little Albion,' Queen said, kneeling back down beside me, leaving the smaller part to float by itself in the air. 'But whatever it means, you should rest. You look about ready to collapse, if you weren't already laying down.'

'But what about-'

'We'll take care of these. Don't worry about it.' King said as he took the larger one and walked away, vanishing mere feet away from where I lay. Queen made no move to leave - in fact she lay down beside me and brought the flame closer to us.

'You have such a bright warm light, little Albion.' she smiled. I could agree to that as the fire wasn't even close to touching me, but it emitted more heat than the Dog at our back. 'It's sad to see you lose it.'

When King returned, he didn't bring the light back with him - in fact, he brought nothing back but a smug smile and saying that he'd taken care of it. Dog and I left shortly after, because the longer I remained in that realm the less chance I would have of returning to the right time.

While I had been gone, years had passed again and the warring had continued. My Britons were losing more and more ground but as Dog and I rejoined in the battles, we managed to push my brothers back. Shortly after those fights, I met Vortigern. Mainly, I went to see him and yell at him for hiring any of Germania's people (though at that point they were calling them the Saxon's) as mercenaries to help. It was an idiot idea - hire the people who had recently been trying to invade you. The exact same thing happened to Rome, by the exact same Nation, and he ended up dead because of it. Vortigern dismissed me, thinking me just an angry child, instead of an angry Nation.

I was forced to stand by and watch as Germania led his people into my land, be given permission to settle so long as they fought back my brothers. I met Germania face to face for the first time since he originally invaded me and I was more afraid of him then than when I had met him before Rome. There was something wrong with his eyes - and a distinctly different feeling from him as well as his personality. It didn't hit me until later that Germania was as divided as I was, if not more, in personalities. The man I was facing, had faced, was no longer Germania, but Saxony. And Saxony thought it a good idea to take my land and my people from me. I wasn't the only one of my people who thought the idea of letting Saxon's settle was a horrendous idea - many of my leaders actually agreed upon this, as well as a good majority of my people. I was distinctly uneasy as Vortigern fell in love with and married one of Saxony's daughters. My people protested - the leaders of the Saxons, named Hengest and Horsa offered a peace treaty.

I wasn't invited to the conference for the treaty, but went along anyways, joining with one of my chieftains and smuggling my way into the banquet hall. I should have known that Saxony had something planned. About three hundred of my leaders showed up - be they chieftains or self proclaimed Kings and Queens to be a part of this treaty - or just to voice their opinion that the whole thing was a farce. Everyone, both Saxon and Briton sat side by side with Saxony himself sitting with his leaders and Vortigern at the head table. I was hiding under the lowermost table, peeking under the edge of the table cloth to see and avoiding being kicked by large booted feet.

They had only just started when I noticed something was wrong. All the Saxon's were keeping their legs crossed at their knees with one hand resting on the boot of the foot in the air. All of them. I kept close watch on the nearest one to my hiding position, as slowly but surely his fingertips edged into his boot. I didn't dare get any closer - where I was was the closest I could be without the tablecloth being pulled up enough for that Saxon to see me. But even from where I was I could see the hilt of the dagger being pulled out of his boot.

I was breathing in to scream 'treachery' when I heard those words. '_Eu nimet saxas_!' one of the men from the head table yelled and I missed grabbing that booted foot by mere inches as he surged to his feet, dagger in hand. I was forced to cover my mouth to keep from screaming as I watched all my people - who never got a chance to defend themselves, let alone stand up, jerk in their seat as they were stabbed _over and over_ and stop moving, their lives being snuffed out. Blood slowly streamed down the chairs and slipped into pools, surrounding me under my table. I was shaking and crying, but I dared not reveal myself, with only Saxon's living in this room I was now trapped in.

Those fucking Saxon's cheered and laughed - ate the food left on the table for them and drank the ale, having a cheerful party amongst the corpses of my people. I could hear though that Vortigern was still alive, and the only relief that I got from that was that from the way he spoke, he had not been involved in the treachery. There was no where I could go that had no blood now, it seeped between my fingers and under my boots soaking into the bottom of my cloak, starting warm but chilling as it went, congealing on my skin and the stink filling my nose until I could smell nothing but copper. I gagged, the smell reminding me of that day long years ago and I admit to panicking. The moment I saw enough room between two of the now drunken invaders, I bolted. The cry went up after me, I could hear the sounds of those very same daggers being drawn once more intending to kill. But this was my keep, my land and I knew my footing was sure as I dashed for the exit.

I was out the gates and running across rocky turf when it happened. I didn't slip, but one moment I was dashing headlong for the road and the next I was down on the ground, scraped and bruised and suddenly in pain. I managed to pull myself up, but my left leg wouldn't work properly. When I turned to see, there was an arrow sticking out of my calf and the pain multiplied tenfold as the cause was determined. But, despite the tears of pain and the fact that my hands were scraped raw from my fall, I was more afraid of the Saxon's catching up to me. I dragged myself onwards, despite the arrows thudding into the ground around me, thankfully missing me. I knew I wasn't going to make it far though - I could hear pounding feet, farther away but drawing closer with every pull of mine towards getting away.

Then Dog was there, snarling and fierce, grabbing me by the back of my tunic and pulling. There was that moment of disorientation as we did that peculiar form of travel and I was dropped in a softer patch of grass and the sounds of chase were gone entirely. In fact, the sounds of people were gone entirely. Yet, we weren't in the Otherworld. By that time though, I was really beyond caring - I don't really remember blacking out, but I did.

When I woke, it was day once more and Dog was gone again. I shifted slightly and the pain came back - from my hands and chest from hitting the ground, but the worst was from my leg, all stiffened and tense from the arrow still stuck in it. From the little I could see of it, it had missed the arteries in my leg so I wouldn't die if I pulled it out, but I certainly didn't have enough bandages or medicine to properly care for it. With a pained laugh, I grabbed my cloak and began tearing off the blood soaked bottom so I could get at slightly cleaner fabric. The arrow had to come out before it festered, clean bandages or not. Intent as I was on awkwardly sitting without touching my leg to the ground and tearing up the cloak given to me by the Fae, I didn't hear the noise of someone walking until they were almost upon me.

Instantly I tensed, nearly blacking out again because of moving the muscles in my leg, even as I reached for my bow. I was shaking too much to even string it properly, let alone hold an arrow steady enough to fire, when a small boy came into the field, carrying a basket. He saw me almost instantly, freezing like a deer before rushing towards me with a cry. He looked to be about six or seven, with muddy brown hair and green eyes and eyebrows nearly as thick as mine. At the time I couldn't figure out why he seemed so familiar, other than that faint familiarity that came with him being one of my people and not a Nation.

'Hey you! Are you alright? How did you get here? Oh God, is that an arrow in your leg?' he chattered nervously as he set his basket down beside me and went to touch my leg. I hissed in pain and he jumped back nervously, his large eyes filled with worry. It wasn't nearly as funny at the time, but now that I think back on it he reminded me more than a bit of the Fae.

'Yes, it's a bloody arrow in my leg. Now if you'll kindly _stop touching it_ I'd like to get it out.' I ground out as I grabbed his hands, which were edging towards the shaft once more.

'But - but you don't have any proper bandages or anything! What if you bleed to death!' his anxiety was starting to remind me of an over enthusiastic puppy, all wriggly and wanting to fall all over you at the same time.

'I'd much rather bleed to death than die by infection. It's a whole lot faster.' I said as I grabbed the arrow shaft and grit my teeth. I tried to yank it out, only to wake up laying in a heap with a damp cloth on my forehead and every bit of me aching. I reached up to pull the cloth off my forehead but stopped when I noticed my hands were bandaged - with clean cloth and from what I could feel, a poultice as well. After that, I realized that my chest was also covered the same way and that I was laying on my back without having an arrow ground into my leg. I managed to sit up dizzily to see my pant leg rolled up past my knee and faintly bloody bandages wrapped all the way from the top of my knee to my ankle. The boy was also missing, but that might have had to do with the fact that it was twilight and the shadows were growing deeper.

'Look Blaise! He's awake!' that boys loud, excited voice came from the shadows making me jump and groan as my dizziness escalated and my aches worsened. When I could open my eyes again both the boy and an older man dressed in the robes of a priest were leaning over me, with the older one checking the bandages on me to the boys never ending chatter. Finally, thankfully, the man who was called Blaise shushed the boy.

'Run ahead and prepare for a guest, Merlin. We'll be joining you momentarily.' the little boy jumped to his feet, nodding enthusiastically before running off ahead at a fast sprint. There was a sudden silence after he left, the only noise being Blaise re-wrapping the bandages.

'I must ask.' he broke the silence suddenly, frowning down at me. 'How does a boy your age end up with such a wound, in such a place? There has been no fighting nearby that would bring cause for a Saxon arrow in your leg. For goodness sake, the only people nearby are the boy and I, with a few miles to the next village and I know you are not from there, nor anywhere near here.'

I had no excuse to give, nor could I give him the truth. I was hiding amongst our leaders and Saxon's, watched all our people die, ran away only to be shot and have a giant black dog spirit me away to this place. So, I shook my head, keeping my silence. He frowned further and pursed his lips but did not stop his care on my leg. Finally satisfied with the bandaging, he was quick to lift me up in his arms and carry me off. He brought me to a small cottage hidden amongst the trees, lit from inside with a bright light and the smell of cooking food wafted out the open door towards us.

It was much nicer than any room I'd stayed at in any keep - small enough that the fire was able to keep the whole inside warm, and the smells of herbs and leather as well as food and flowers. Merlin had apparently made up a bed - just a blanket over a pile of straw, but it smelled so wonderful and felt so much softer than ground or stone, which Blaise laid me down on right beside the fire. The second I was down, Merlin practically jumped on me, only a sharp word from the priest kept him from actually doing just that, and curled up against my chest like a contented pet. He was surprisingly quiet and for a moment I thought he had fallen asleep when Blaise announced that dinner was ready. Then he was up and grabbing wooden bowls and spoons, bringing them back to my side before sitting down again. When the priest announced we were to pray before our meal I had to sit there and watch them bow their heads and pray to a God I didn't believe in. If you've never been in that situation before, let me tell you it is distinctly uncomfortable, especially when Blaise gave me a serious look as if adding 'not a christian' to his list of things wrong with me.

But that didn't stop him from sharing a meal with me, for which I was very grateful. Merlin insisted on feeding me himself, and when I protested Blaise told me to lay off my hands until they had healed - apparently I had scraped them worse than I thought when I'd fallen.

'So what's your name?' Merlin asked me after we had finished eating. I sent him a strange look, remembering back when not one of my people would ask such a personal question.

'Er... it's Britannia.' I opted out for the name Rome gave me - I couldn't quite bring myself to give out my real name so it was a low second option.

'Britannia? That sounds stupid.' Merlin sniffed with all the wisdom of the world. Little did he know that I agreed readily with that statement. I fell asleep that night to the sounds of a crackling fire and the steady breathing of the warm body laying on my chest.

We developed a bit of a routine over the next few days - in the morning they would get up and prepare a meal, pray, and then Merlin would have his studies. He was learning to read and write in Latin, which was pretty much the highest education one of my people could get at the time, mostly so they could read the Bible when they became priests or nuns. I learned more than I ever wanted to about God and Jesus during those few days. After lessons inside, Merlin was sent outside to help gather or farm or hunt, preparing for winter which was still far off. I felt horribly useless those days, spending most of my time asleep while I healed. When my hands were better, I was at least able to offer my services to cutting, sewing, fletching, pretty much whatever I could do without walking, which Blaise had expressly forbidden me from doing. He was even more suspicious of me when he learned that I could read and write Latin.

His opinion of me worsened when he decided the best thing for my wound would to be to take me to the stream and wash it as well as the rest of me - even doing no activity I was starting to smell. I tried my hardest to convince him to just leave me there while I washed but once again someone refused to believe that I'd do a proper job of it. That was when he saw the scarred mess that was my back. He asked me that night if I was a run away slave and I laughed at him, bitter though it was, and wished I could tell him the truth without sounding crazy.

One late evening, just after dark - shortly after I had been given permission to hobble around a bit to keep the muscle from going too lax, Merlin burst inside near tears. Blaise was alarmed when he heard that Merlin had seen a giant black dog with glowing eyes nearby on his way home, whereas I was just wondering what Dog was doing - being seen by mortals who weren't our enemy. I tried my best to assure him the dog wouldn't hurt anyone unless they were, say, a Saxon, but when I tried to explain the Fae the two of them thought I was talking of devil's and demon's and I had to drop the subject because I was only making it worse. Late that night when both were asleep, I managed to worm my way out from underneath Merlin - who had taken to using me as his personal pillow - and snuck outside to visit Dog.

Every night after that, as my leg got stronger and I could manage it without straining myself too badly, Dog and I would take longer and longer walks. I used the time to extend my senses to find out what was going on in my lands, especially with those traitorous Saxon's. From what I could gather, Saxony's men were holding Vortigern hostage until he gave in and gave them more land. He was holding out at the moment, but things did not look bright. I wished fervently that my leg was fully healed again and that I could _do_ something about it, but even at my best I couldn't manage to do much of anything. It made me think of the sacrifice that I had made with King and Queen and I wondered exactly when that person was going to show up to help me, and whether the little fire had been used yet.

As the summer months turned into early fall Blaise explained that he and Merlin moved into the village to help with getting all the harvesting done. When they left, I left with them, walking up the road with only a mild limp. It had been a few years since I'd had a chance to help with farm work - not since I'd gotten really down to warring with my brothers and it made for a nice change, albeit not a very relaxing one. Blaise made it clear to everyone in the village that I was still injured and not to do any really heavy or hard work so I was put to work in the orchard with the little ones and a few of the women, filling baskets with apples and other fruit. Merlin was apparently quite a squirrel, up and down trees, knocking the fruit off as if he were born off the ground. He and I made a bit of a game of it, he'd lob the fruit at me and I would catch it. No matter how hard or strangely he managed to throw it, I was proud to say I was able to catch every last one.

We were given time to have a break, the two of us stretched out in the fragrant grass eating apples when Merlin asked me a question.

'Hey Britannia... what are you?'

I blinked in surprise, looking over at his face, solemnly staring down at me. 'What brings that question on?' I asked in return. He grimaced, looking troubled.

'Well, some of the boys in the village have been saying you're unnatural. I mean, you read and write as well as any noble but no one's ever seen you in church and you don't know any of the prayers or anything out of the Bible. Some of them... some of them even said you are a devil.' he said that last part in a very hushed voice, looking to see if there was anyone else around in earshot.

'Merlin, I'm going to be very frank with you. I cannot be something that I do not believe in. I don't believe the devil exists, nor do I believe in demons or angels or even God.' I would have laughed at his face if I wasn't being so serious, his horror was very much evident.

'But... but God is God! How can you not believe in him?'

'I will tell you something, it's hard to believe in someone when you've been around for longer than people have believed in that someone.'

'W-what do you mean by that?' he asked me, eyes wide.

'I mean Merlin, that when I told you my name is Britannia, I meant it. I am Britannia.' I sighed at his look of confusion. 'I am this country, literally I am Britannia. From Hadrian's Wall to the north, to the Dover cliffs in the south, to my borders with Cymru. I was born ages ago Merlin, long before Christ himself. Which is why I find it hard to believe in him or his cause.'

He left me there, lying in the grass and I sighed. It was probably a bad thing to try and explain to him what I was, but I was tired of pretending to be like everyone else when I very much wasn't. I got up and left for the village while it was still light out and hid away in the inn until dark. Then, I snuck out with all my belongings and waited for Dog to show up. It nuzzled my hand in sympathy for I got the impression it had come to like Merlin as much as I had. We started to leave the village together when we were stopped by a crowd of people, those very same villagers I had helped out during the day. Blaise was at the forefront of the group, Bible clutched tightly in his hands while the rest of them wielded anything from a pitchfork to a scythe, a hoe to a torch. Dog growled low in it's throat sending a wave of nervous shifting through the whole crowd as they took in it and it's size. I couldn't see Merlin anywhere in the crowd.

Dog suddenly snatched my sleeve in it's mouth and dragged me back the way we had come. The crowd took this in and with a surge of confidence chased after us, screaming threats and calling us servants of the devil. I was afraid of my own people for the first time ever. Dog seemed to know where it wanted to go because we came to a stop in front of the church. It whined and pawed at the door until I opened it, then grabbed me again and pulled me inside.

I had no time to protest before it jumped into the water that Merlin had described them using for baptizing, dragging me head over feet into the water. I came up spluttering and choking having gasped at the wrong moment and swallowed a large mouthful of the stuff.

'Damn it Dog!' I yelled as I choked. 'What did you do that for!' it barked at me playfully, tongue lolling and eyes bright. I took my revenge on that look by pushing a large wave of water into its face. A loud voice cleared it's throat behind us and I jumped having in that moment forgotten that I was being chased by a small mob. Blaise was standing right behind me and before I could say or do anything he grabbed me, one hand on my head and another on my chest and he pushed me under the water. I struggled - I thought he was trying to drown me in a church of all places, when he finally let me up to gasp for air. He let me go and I backed up as far as I could from him, even as he turned to face the rest of the crowd that had crammed itself into the small church.

'Well, I must say that was the most unorthodox baptism I have even given.' he said dryly and to my amazement the entire crowd calmed down instantly with those words, even enough to laugh shakily before they all slowly left. I stayed at the back of the pool behind Dog, who took that moment to hop out, claws clacking on the stone flooring, water running off its fur. Other than the noise it was making the church had become rather silent as Blaise and I stared at each other.

'You can come out now, it's perfectly safe.' he said, tacking that second part on when he saw the 'I don't trust you' look I sent him. When I still didn't make a move, he did, pulling his robe off and holding it out for me. 'Come on, you'll catch sick if you stay in there.' I bit my lip as I started to shiver, but Dog was apparently tired of waiting for me as it snagged my sleeve yet again and pulled me out. I landed with an 'oomph' on my back and a big, heavy, wet dog standing on top of me grinning like a loon. It then proceeded to lick my face, took one large step back and shook itself off. If I wasn't completely soaked already I would have been even more pissed but before I could even retaliate that time it was off scampering out the door and into the night.

As I glared at the door, Blaise shoved the robe closer to me and the smile on his face told me that he was trying his best not to laugh at me. I could feel my skin heat up despite the fact that I was getting really rather cold - in moments I had stripped out of my soaked clothes and thrown on his warm robes. I turned back to look at the priest - he'd gathered and folded my wet clothes in his arms while I was changing. He looked up at me, flustered in and of himself. I could see in his eyes he regretted having been part of that mob, especially when he offered a hand to me, to lead me out of the church. I told him I forgave him when I bypassed the hand and practically glued myself to his side - his incredibly warm side. Blaise laughed softly, wrapping his formerly proffered arm around my shoulders as we walked out.

The second the door to the inn was opened, I had a Merlin attached to my other side. 'Oh God Britannia, I'm so happy you're okay, and I'm sorry that I said anything at all, I should have trusted you and... and oh I'm so happy you're okay!' he nearly squeezed the breath out of me with how hard he was hugging me. I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders and the three of us managed somehow to make it up the stairs without letting go and falling asleep together in the same bed. I was woken a few hours later by a finger prodding my side. Merlin looked up at me, with apologetic eyes.

'I'm still really sorry.' he said when he saw I was awake, whispering quietly as to not wake Blaise.

'You don't have to apologize, Merlin. It's alright.'

'No it's not. You see, I... I was really afraid you were a devil. See, my mama had me when a devil took advantage of her and people were going to kill her. And if a devil could manage to take advantage of her, well, what would stop them from coming after me?' he blurted, a terrified look in his eyes.

'Is that why you pray to your God all the time? Fear?' In my head I was wondering who exactly had taken advantage of his mother, because devil's didn't exist to me. Faeries however...

'Blaise says that when I was baptized he couldn't touch me anymore, but... but if I ask God for help than I'm sure I'll be safe and the people I love will be safe.'

'Merlin, do you believe me when I say I'm a country?' I asked, getting a confused look before he nodded. 'Then I think it safe to say I'd know if a devil got into my lands. And I promise you that if they ever did I'd come straight away to kick them back out. What I think happened is you and your friends were getting 'devil's' confused with 'faeries' again. They tend to pull pranks that seem horrible to others but are absolutely hilarious to them.'

'Even destroying my granddad's life? Making my aunt into a loose woman? Hurting my mother like that?'

'Well, yes. They love to mess with the lives of mortals. Perhaps your grandfather did something to anger the Fae - they love revenge as much as they love pranks.'

'Then I don't think I like faeries much.' Merlin replied mulishly.

'They don't much care whether you do or do not.' I said, amused by his answer.

After that, things were quite a bit more comfortable - it amused me that being dunked in water would be the best way to get on Blaise's good side. They both also seemed a whole lot less afraid of the Dog. But time passed as it was wont to do and the wound on my leg healed, so it was time to head off. My people were still fighting, still dying against the many people who wanted to conquer us and they needed me more. Neither one wanted me to leave - but they both understood that as a Nation I couldn't just sit back and let others fight for me all the time.

'Will you come back to visit?' Merlin asked me as I adjusted my bow on my back at twilight. He held out his hands, empty but in need of holding, which I did.

'I'm not sure. I will try, but sometimes I forget time. If I do not visit this year or the next, take no offense. Wish me luck?' I smiled at him, which encouraged him to smile back at me.

'Good luck Britannia.' he gripped my hands tightly for a seven year old. I grimaced and knelt down beside him.

'Here is a secret for you and you alone, Merlin.' That got his attention and he nodded until his head nearly flew off. 'Britannia is the name Rome gave me, much as I hate it. I give you permission to know my true Name, so long as you promise not to let anyone else know it nor use it in vain.' he nodded again, and despite the fact that I wasn't sure he understood the implications of a true Name, I smiled. 'Then you may call me Albion.' It felt so right to tell him that, though I did not know why at the time.

'Then good luck Albion.' he watched me leave with Dog as we rushed off to the fight.

When next I met Merlin, it was nearly five years later - or so he scolded me as a greeting. I had been at war nearly non-stop that whole time, running from battle to battle with no time to really heal my wounds. I was almost always exhausted and just took the sudden urge to go somewhere as another battle starting that needed me. I nearly cried, that was how tired I was, but Dog was kind enough to take me there anyways. It surprised me when I saw no armies - when I saw no people at all. Then the sound of hooves on the road near me began to echo - I turned, arrow drawn and ready to be fired if an enemy came upon me. There were three men on horses, with one extra set of legs on the first one considerably shorter. The riders pulled up near me all staring at me as if they didn't expect me to be there.

'See! I told you so!' the voice belonging to the shorter pair of legs announced before the boy slid off the horse. It was Merlin - taller, older and... he looked near identical to me except for the brown hair. He grinned just as he smacked me upside the head. 'You're five years late!' he declared with a fake pout on his lips. I couldn't stop staring at him - there was something so... different about this Merlin that I felt I should know. 'Now come on Britannia. Get on one of the horses, we've got places to go.' he pushed me towards the second horse and rider as I tried to find my voice to protest.

'Wait, what? Where are we going? Merlin wh-'

'Oh it's simple. These fine men here are to gather a boy with no father, take him away and kill him and then use his blood to help build a castle. Doesn't that sound like fun! But I asked them if one boy would be enough blood - I mean look at me, I'm a little on the scrawny side. So I told them I could get them another boy with no father and brought them here, and there you are! Let's go be sacrificed together!' he laughed as if it was the funniest joke he'd heard all day. The guards and I all shared an odd look and I wanted to ask Merlin what had gotten into him. Then I was hauled onto the back of a horse without so much as a by-your-leave.

The castle that they brought us to was attempting to be built on the hill that I had buried the two dragons underneath all those years - no, centuries ago. I could feel that my spell was failing though - it had been years since I had cast it, and I no longer had the power to renew it. We were let off the backs of our horses - my legs were killing me - and Merlin came over right away and grabbed my hand as if he thought I would run away.

The owner of the castle was Vortigern. The man who had years ago sold away large portions of me to the Saxon's so they wouldn't kill him and set him free. He was one of the top people who angered me at the moment, and when he saw my face and Merlin's face his face paled to nearly gray.

'Y-you!' he exclaimed, looking and pointing at me. 'You look the same as that time...'

'Well, yes. I tried to explain it to you but you were being to self-centered to listen. I. Am. Your. Bloody. Country!' I hissed at him, wishing I had my fire magic to burn him to ashes. 'I don't age like you do.'

Before we could get into an argument - my words, my disrespect, had made him very angry, making the gray skin burn to a bright red - Merlin interrupted us with a cheer that was beginning to annoy me.

'So my Lord. I hear that your counsellors have decided that it's a good idea to kill me and Britannia to make a castle?' he stared down at Merlin as if seeing him for the first time, and nodded. 'Well, that has to be the silliest thing I have heard in ages. You see, I can tell you exactly why your castle is being destroyed every night. I can even fix the problem.'

Both Vortigern and I looked at him incredulously.

'Actually, Britannia can tell you better exactly why the hill shakes - he was there after all.' Merlin drove that 'I'm not actually a child' dagger in just a little deeper into Vortigern's side.

'Err... well... there are dragons trapped under the hill.' I explained, rather badly at that. Merlin must have read my thoughts, because he snorted and kicked me in the ankle, his eyes demanding a better explanation.

'I was meeting my brothers when two dragons started fighting in the sky. I didn't want them to kill each other - which they were very determined to do... so I cast a spell that put them to sleep under the hill. My spell is unravelling. The dragons are waking up.' I stared at my feet in embarrassment, wishing once more for the power that I had given up, even though I'm still not sure I would have used it. Merlin nodded, as if he was agreeing with something he had known the whole time.

'So, what I'm going to do is let the dragons out.' He completely rode over my protests. 'Britannia, it's not fair to them to force them to sleep forever just because you want them to not fight. I say, let them fight. One of them will win, the other will lose and then the fighting will be over.'

I still protested to that, but Vortigern was all for it. So, to quiet me, Merlin hugged me and kissed my forehead and while I spluttered with embarrassment, he turned around.

And cast a spell.

Oh. _Oh._ - was all I could think. That was why Merlin felt so familiar. That was why he looked so much like me. He was me - a part of me I had given up. Part of me that would be able to set me free. Even as the dragons burst from the ground screaming the same horrible screeches from all those years ago, even as they tore at each other, all I could do was stand there and stare at Merlin - my Merlin, my magic. I felt a hand on my shoulder - not having noticed my brother Cymru having shown up until then. He wasn't trying to start a fight though - his eyes were nailed to his dragon.

Cymru cheered loudly as Y Ddraig Goch managed to bend the whites neck _just so_ snapping it and killing the other. But it wasn't done quite yet and we were all subjected to large chunks of flesh and bone raining down on the land around us as the red tore the loser to bits as it roared its triumph.

Merlin laughed, bright and clear, nearly the same not as Cymru and he spun around to grab my hands. I tried to smile, I really did, but seeing the dragon be murdered just so one man could build his castle seemed like such a horrible waste. Vortigern disagreed with me - he was ordering men to collect the fallen dragon parts - apparently he wanted to make a throne of them, even as he ordered men to start building the walls again. It made me ill that no one was upset by what had happened other than me.

Merlin caught on, his smile slipping. 'You're not happy?' he sounded so uncertain that I had to sigh.

'No Merlin, I'm not. It doesn't make me happy to see ay of the Fae die, especially for such a pathetic reason as building a castle.'

'Oh.' Merlin paused and his face fell. 'Would if make you feel better if I told you the white dragon was the Saxon's dragon?'

I tugged his hand, leading him away from everyone else to jump on top of one of the castle's unused stone blocks. 'Does that really make a difference, that the dragon represented someone else? The reason I put them to sleep was because I didn't want either one to die - dragons are rare and wonderful and beautiful... they shouldn't be involved in the doings of man.' I stopped and looked him directly in his eyes, the same green as mine. 'Does that make any sense?'

'Err... sort of. I shouldn't have woken them up with the intention of letting them rip each other apart?'

'Well, I suppose so. You have so much magic Merlin... you need to be aware of what you're doing with it.' he looked mildly chastised, but he looked like he was thinking hard about it, which was all I could ask. 'Which reminds me... how do you know so much about magic? The last time we met, you were very intent on being Christian.'

'Oh, that. I was kidnapped not long after you left by a couple of faeries.' he looked both sheepish and amused. 'They told me I had it and lots of it, then proceeded to give me a very painful crash course in it, without even asking if I wanted to learn it.'

I laughed. 'King and Queen?' because it certainly sounded like them. Which meant they kept their word and took care of everything. He grinned and nodded enthusiastically, shuffling closer to me until we were right up beside each other.

'I have a surprise for you.' he grinned and whispered in my ear.

'Is it a better surprise than dragons?' I asked him dryly. He snorted at me, but reached behind him and pulled out a small leather tube that was sealed at one end with a black wax. He held it between us, while shiftily looking around for any observers. When he was satisfied that no one was watching, he cracked the wax seal - and instantly I could see a glow coming from inside. My interest was piqued as he peeled the rest of the wax away. He held it out to me and I peered inside. There was the other part of me - that little fiery bit, glowing just as strongly as when I first lost it.

'You know, when the Faeries first told me that I was a part of you, I didn't believe them. But I kept thinking and thinking about it, and I realized something.' The intensity of his voice made me look up and stare into his face, completely serious and yet desperate to make me understand. 'I realized that if I really was a part of you... more so than just being one of your citizens... that it would make me really happy. I want to help you, wanted to help you since I first met you. So when King and Queen gave this to me and told me that I would be the one to choose who'd be your King... our King...' His face had turned bright red despite the seriousness of his voice and even as he began to run out of words, I knew what he meant.

My heart lifted up higher than it had been even when I had first met Cymru, or the Fae. Merlin - brilliant, magical Merlin was the first mortal I ever fell in love with. I know I was turning just as red in the face as he was as I leaned in to kiss his cheek.

'Thank you.' I told him, quietly, a secret between us. He smiled back at me once he got over the shock of me kissing him and he capped the wax over the light once more, with a burst of magic it melted back into place.

'Even if we don't see each other again for a long time...' he said as he put the tube back and adjusted his tunic. 'I want to make you a promise... no, a pledge.' he hopped down off the stone and pulled me down as well. Then he got down on one knee and clasped my right hand between both of his. 'I pledge to you that I will care for this part of you as if it were also a part of me. And I will continue to care for it and raise it even after I have completed my task. I will raise you a King worthy to be your King. This I swear.'

I accepted his pledge whole-heartedly, and when I left, I left assured that I would have a ruler one day that would save me. More years passed - the Saxon's had a large foot hold in my lands and there wasn't anything I or any army of mine could do to knock them out. Vortigern became an even worse thorn in my monarchy - after the massacre of my leaders, the remaining one's decided to vote a King into place. Vortigern insisted on a child of Constantine the Third - forcing Constans to be a King when all the boy really wanted to do was be a monk. It gave Vortigern even more power as Constans trusted him with more and more power. The balance was broken more when that horrible man had the boy murdered as he decided that if he were to be King in all but Name, then why not be King? I heard that Constans's two brothers had run for Brittany but paid it no thought. Vortigern thought to keep me as a symbol of his right to be ruler - I spent quite a bit of time just avoiding him and his men instead of helping the war.

I did have a bit of a brighter light to all that - when Aurelius Ambrosius and Uther returned from Brittany they came with a large army - and the desire to get revenge on the man who murdered their brother. The Saxon's couldn't stand in their way, for once being beaten back as they urged their men on. I had the pleasure of standing back and watching Vortigern's castle burn to the ground - with the man in it. Aurelius became King - a much better one than his poor brother and Vortigern combined. Under his rule we managed to hold our ground.

There were a few infrequent times I happened to run into Aurelius - a few battles, though we never managed to actually meet as well as one time I caught sight of him with Merlin. The mage - now a few years older looking than me was casting a spell for him. I stayed hidden behind Ambrosius's guards and retainers as they all watched in awe as giant stones floated in the air from the west and arranged themselves in a circle with one large block landing to rest on the tops of two standing in the circle. Yes, that was how Stonehenge was created, just so you know. The people were intimidated - I doubt any of them had ever met anyone with magic, even as the time of Druids was being reborn. But Merlin was incredible - and I was abuzz with hope that him being with the King meant that he was the one. As Merlin sat down on the ground while Ambrosius congratulated him, he caught my eye and destroyed my hopes when he shook his head 'no'.

I left again, always needed somewhere. Word came to me quite late that Aurelius had been poisoned and killed. I made it in time to see him buried at Stonehenge thanks to Dog and watched Uther be crowned King - again with a negative response from Merlin as to him being _the_ King. By then I was practically a nervous frenzy - when was THAT King going to show up? What was keeping Merlin? I was there at the celebratory feast and watched as my new King made a fool of himself falling head over heels in love with a married woman - as he declared war on the King of Cornwall just because the man wouldn't let him sleep with his wife. The battles that came about because of that I refused to participate in and I left for the North once more wishing to never see that particular embarrassing King again.

When Uther - who later became known as Uther Pendragon - was killed in battle years later with no successor all the Kings from all over my country began to fight over who would become the next 'King of Briton'. The civil war was not what I needed - chaos from within, my people were killing each other, chaos from without as my brothers continued to attack and the Saxon's grew more bold and took more of my lands for themselves. I became very sick during those times - each part of me that represented a different land grew bruised, each part of my mind that represented those different lands warred against each other as more than once I came back to myself and I had cut my wrist or stabbed my side as each part took to dominate the other. Dog did it's best to comfort me, even as other me's took over and pushed it away. My mind, my heart was fractured and bleeding - I was very much insane.

I found myself one day standing in front of a large stone with a sword sticking out of it and wondering how I got there. It was because all my Kings were there - and all were there to try and become my next true King, which the only way to accomplish that would be to pull the sword from the stone. The people, my fractured people, celebrated as if someone had already been crowned - having tourney's and feasts and mad parties in their many colored tents. I alone sat vigil by the stone, mostly because I was just too exhausted by my injuries and my mind, while my own populace avoided going near me or speaking to me as if my appearance was the plague and not just injuries. I found myself staring for hours at that sword, it's likeness still etched into my mind. It hurt when the people - not just Kings but everyone from peasants to warriors to even women - all lined up in front of the sword and one by one none could pull it out. That brief bitter flare of hope as hands wrapped around that beautiful hilt and tugged with all the might of each pair of arms, only to lose to the magic spell holding it in place. Slowly but surely, the line of people shortened until none remained, and still there was no King.

My people shrugged it off and went to have another tournament to pass the time. I huddled in on myself weeping. I couldn't stop, couldn't see just desperately wished for my wish to be granted because I was so sick and so tired and if no one claimed that sword for their own soon I was certain I would die. I have no idea how many hours or days went by like that, the mortals jousting and cheering and celebrating as if nothing were the matter, while I sat there - my tears dried up not because I was no longer sad, but because I had no water remaining in my body to spare and I stared at that sword day and night, whether I could see it or not.

Then one early morning as my people prepared one last tournament before they went back their separate ways to continue their warring as if nothing had happened here - a hand touched my shoulder. It was warm - warm to the point of burning me after I had sat there the entire night in the cold with only my cloak to keep me warm. I had enough strength to turn and look at the person who actually came near me. It was a boy, a few years older than me in appearance, with messy blonde hair tied back in a short tail, dark brown eyes and scruffy clothes that gave the impression of a stable boy.

'Umm... excuse me, but would I be able to borrow that sword?' he asked me, with concern. 'My cousin forgot his and I can't find our tent, but he needs it to fight. Is it alright?' I couldn't help but stare at him, this silly boy that didn't know what that sword was meant to be. I managed to find my voice, cracked with the remains of old screams and days of silence and no food or water.

'If you can take it, be my guest.' By this point, even I was beginning to believe that none would be able to pull that sword out, that it symbolized my inability to be unified, that Merlin had not been able to keep his word. The boy walked up to the sword, all nerves and gangly limbs, looking around as if he expected someone to come out screaming at him for touching the sword.

And then he reached out, grabbed the hilt and pulled it out. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, thinking I was imagining it, and by the time I had done that, the boy was gone, run amongst the remaining tents and leaving me there with an empty rock and not even a name for my new King. Time seemed to stop for me, even as everyone else continued on at a normal pace. I was stuck there, I couldn't even run after him. I was broken out of my near comatose state by those very same warm hands shaking my shoulders and those very same worried brown eyes - except this time they weren't worried over a missing sword, but me - sweet wonderful mercy, he was worried about me!

'Are you alright? You look terribly ill.' he asked, taking in what skin of mine he could see. I became horribly self conscious - my bruised and broken skin, unwashed for goodness knew how long, my filthy, unkempt clothes, torn and tattered, my lack of shoes - I never did remember where those ended up. My weak and shaky limbs, which I had enough control over to reach up and wrap around him, holding him close so he couldn't run away again. It was like I'd never been warm before, the heat he emitted soaked through my skin and eased away my aches and pains. I laughed, and it croaked as badly as my voice, but I felt lighter than when Merlin had sworn himself to me.

'I should be fine now that you're here, my King.' he tensed in my arms at that, but I wouldn't let him go, not then, not ever. He spoke then, to someone who stood in front of us, but I couldn't make out what they said aside from a pleasant buzz as all the hardships I'd been put through and put myself through caught up to me and I fell into unconsciousness warm and happy.

When I woke up, I had been moved onto a pallet, my arms still wrapped around the boy - whose name I still did not know - as well as my legs tangled with his, and his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight. I sighed with contentment and tried to paste myself just that much closer to him like he was my own personal heater. Out of the corner of my eye something shifted. That something was a someone, and that someone was Merlin, who looked like he was about to leave. I called his name and he froze, turning and looking at me with such guilt and loss, I moved away from my heat source and shifted to the end of the bed to talk to him.

'What's wrong Merlin?' I asked and my concern seemed to make him feel all the guiltier.

'I'm so sorry Britannia. I took so long to keep my promise - look what happened to you! I just wanted him to be perfect, so I waited and waited and then he had to grow up and... I'm so sorry.' he finished lamely. I looked up into his face - he was in his thirties by this time I think and grabbed his hand - so much larger than mine by that point, and just as covered in calluses.

'Merlin, he's perfect. Thank you so much.' I told him, trying to prove that I wasn't mad at him with my words and my shaking hands. It helped a bit I think, for he kneeled down by the bed and clutched my hands like a life line. But there was still something in his eyes that bothered me, as if there was something he was desperately trying to hide from me. 'Is something else the matter?' I questioned him, pulling one of my hands out of his grip to touch his temple. His expression crumpled though he didn't cry.

'I... now that I've completed my task, now that you have what you've always wanted...' he bit his lip and looked away. I frowned while I stared at him and his posture. As if the sun came out from behind the clouds, I had a sudden inspiration as to what was bothering him.

'Merlin, I may have a King now, but he's still young. Could you... stay with us... and advise him? Don't think that just because he's here everything will fall into place. I don't want him to end up like another Uther so... could you stay?' I know my face was turning red while I told him this as I was trying to not be obvious that I was desperately wanting him to stay. The look on his face made it obvious that that endeavor had failed - it looked like I had offered him a permanent place in Heaven itself no matter what sin he may have committed. Then he kissed me, softly but longingly on the lips and when he pulled away I felt as if all my skin had turned bright red, all the way down to my toes. He laughed quietly and brought both my hands back together in his.

'I would be honored to guide him with you, Albion.' he said that just as softly and I was about to reply when the boy on the bed moved, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me back, all in his sleep. I smiled at Merlin and he grinned that same wonderful boyish grin from when he was younger before pushing me back towards the younger mans arms. I pulled him down with me though and it felt amazingly wonderful and safe to be trapped between the two of them, wrapped in both their arms and warmth.

'Merlin...' I started as I was dozing off and he let out a 'hmmm...?' in response.

'What's his name?' I realized that I still didn't know his name.

'He is Arthur... King Arthur.' he murmured into my hair. It was a fitting name for him.

When we woke up, the very first thing that Arthur commanded was that I had a bath, followed by lots of food and water. As I was bathing, I realized I didn't have that peculiar feeling of brokenness in the back of my mind anymore. When I questioned Merlin about that, he told me that the majority of the Kings who were present at the Sword in the Stone had sworn fealty to Arthur the moment they found out he had successfully pulled the sword out. I smiled for that meant I was nearly whole again and allowed the two of them to help me heal physically. It took months for me to be back in fighting condition and by then, with Merlin's help, Arthur was starting to take command of his - our- kingdom.

Arthur was a very thoughtful person - well... thoughtful towards me. He treated me like I was very delicate glass - as if the slightest provocation would cause me to fall over and shatter. It was great while I felt the same, but as I regained my strength and my sanity it became rather stifling. Even while he reconquored the lands of my Kings that had not sworn allegiance to him I was to stay at home - which had become the castle at Caerleon where I was to stay and relax. I remember this one time I went to get my bow to practice on a blustery fall day. I made it all the way down to the armory where my elm - still the same one Dog gave me ages ago - was being stored when one of Arthur's early knights dashed up behind me, completely out of breath.

'My lord, please come this way.' he said so quickly as he placed his hands on my shoulders and steered me away. At first I thought something had happened - but when I asked what the matter was, I was enraged to hear his answer was that he was under orders to not allow me to do anything that could potentially harm myself; which included using my own weapons, riding horses and just generally going anywhere unsupervised. I began to listen to the gossip around the castle - and to my embarrassment the people, from servants to knights all thought I was some sort of concubine to Arthur with the way he treated me.

When Arthur returned from the field, he came to me expecting praise for his returning myself to me - instead I dragged him down to the practice grounds outside and laid into him with a sword. He was very good at fighting - and strategy, even as he was wondering what in the world had gotten in to me, he was always moving and trying to out maneuver me - but I had ages of experience, near practically raised for four hundred years with a sword in my hand and fighting my own in wars. I beat him down, forced him back up and beat him down again. By that time we had gathered quite a crowd, all of whom were amused at a much smaller and lighter boy being able to bring down their King - Merlin at the front of the crowd was very nearly outright laughing at us. Arthur had flushed bright red with anger and embarrassment by the time I was done with him.

'What's gotten into you Britannia?' he nearly shouted at me but his pride kept his voice low enough that it could be considered a private conversation. That wasn't what I wanted - I wanted everyone to know that I wasn't some live in whore - that I was more a warrior than any one of them.

'What's gotten in to me?' I said loudly, making him wince. 'What's gotten into me is severe boredom, my Lord. I did not come here to be locked away in a stone cage - I came to fight, to reclaim what's ours. You may have the right to treat me like an invalid, but I have the right to leave if this appalling situation continues.' And I stormed off after racking my blade, leaving my King to nurse his wounded pride.

I saw him later that evening, speaking quietly to Merlin but pointedly ignoring me. I was alright with that - if it took time to force him to understand that inaction wasn't good for me, it would take time. I refused to have my opinion ignored like all my rulers had done since Rome left.

It was nearly a week later when Arthur overcame his wounded pride and knocked on the door to my room. He offered me his hand without a word and curious as I was, I took it. He led me down and out of the castle to the blacksmith. There, I was stripped out of most of my clothes as the blacksmith and all his apprentices scurried around me taking my measurements. I shot a questioning look to Arthur who had stood back and crossed his arms over his chest.

'You said you wanted to fight. Well, I won't let you fight unless you're properly equipped - thus, your own suit of armor.' he very nearly laughed at my astonished expression and when my measurements were finally taken I nearly bowled him over with the hug I gave him. When my armor was finished - all silver with blue accessories - I presented myself to Arthur and he Knighted me, which caused a bit of a scandal in the nobles. After all, I still looked as if I was twelve, at the most I should have been a squire at that time. I didn't care and neither did Merlin or Arthur and really, that was all that mattered to me then.

I went to war with him and began to win back what I had lost. It was exhilarating - for once I wasn't being run ragged, for once I wasn't pulled away by another battle, by another side. I was with Arthur, fighting side by side and at night stayed in his tent, curled in his arms as we slept. I loved him... I still love him and I wish nearly everyday that I could have him back again - despite what that would mean for me.

Then, after he had taken back all my lands, he kept going - which started my first ever burst as a small Empire as he invaded all my brothers and won as well as Gallia and a few northern countries I had never met before. We were both pretty high on ourselves as there seemed to be no limit to the advancements we could make.

And then Arthur broke his sword in a fight. It took both Merlin and I to get him out of that fight safely and I was terrified that meant Arthur's reign had been broken - after all, the sword was supposed to represent the True King. Merlin pulled me back from the brink of a panic attack by telling the both of us that there was another sword that King and Queen had told him of - guarded by a Fae named Nimue. That sword was called Caliburn.

The three of us went off, leaving all the knights and nobles behind to find Nimue's realm, as her castle was hidden by a spell, so all but Merlin and I would be useless for finding it. We rode by day and by night the three of us curled up alongside Dog and it was warmer than a summer's day between the four of us. This routine kept going on for months with no results in finding the entrance to Nimue's realm - even Dog could not find it hard as it tried and Merlin couldn't scry it. Then, one early misty morning I found myself awake and wandering away from the campsite - both Merlin and Arthur quickly realized that I was gone and came rushing after me, leaving the horses tied where they were. The mist was thick - I couldn't see the others despite the fact that I could hear them under the sounds of unearthly birds and animal calls, with cracking branches and rustling leaves as well as the occasional curse or heavy breath.

I came upon her lake the same way I came upon Yr Alban's lake all those centuries ago - by stumbling into it and nearly falling face first into it. I swore loudly and colorfully - pulling myself out of the mud and water, which at least wasn't as cold as the last time. Arthur laughed while Merlin managed to only chuckle at my predicament as they grabbed my shoulders and helped pull me back. When we finally had righted ourselves, the mist around the lake had vanished, leaving a large castle floating over the centre of the lake in plain view. As we took that in, my eyes traveled down to the lake surface, past the small island and latched onto a gleaming sword sticking out of the water, being held up by a hand without moving. I nudged Arthur and pointed towards it - and by the sudden sound of him sucking in air I could tell he saw it. Merlin grabbed me by my shoulder and led me along the shore line, until I saw the same rowboat that he did while I was gaping at the Sword in the Lake.

Merlin, Arthur and I were about to get into the boat when a voice stopped us. 'Who travels to my realm uninvited?' a soft, feminine voice called from the little island at the centre of the lake. There sat a small, pale woman, with a harp resting in her lap in a silvery gown with her long blonde hair pinned back from her face.

There was a moment of silence from the three of us as we silently asked each other who would speak for all of us. Arthur took the initiative. 'My name is Arthur, King of the Britons, and these are Britannia, my country and Merlin, my friend and adviser. We are here to ask about the legendary sword you have in your possession.'

Nimue gently placed the harp on the ground before standing and facing us. 'Yes, I knew you were to come for it. I would give you my sword, but for a boon from each of you.' She stood there, placid and quiet as we turned to each other. With just a glance at Arthur, both Merlin and I thought that he was more than willing to do as she asked for that sword - and who were we to deny him the sword that represented our Kingdom's leader? We nodded to him encouragingly, and he answered her.

'We accept your terms, Lady of the Lake.' and she nodded as if she had known what the answer would be regardless.

'Then send over your adviser for I wish to relay each request in private.' she gestured to the little row boat that we had been about to get into. Merlin smiled at me briefly before hopping in. The boat moved itself towards the island without any aid from a driver or Merlin himself, which told me that Nimue was a powerful Fae - nearly the same as King and Queen. I stood back and watched as the two conferred quietly on the island - and was worried when Merlin shot a nervous and guilty look my way before turning back to Nimue and nodding. She accepted his oath and sent him back to us, quiet and no longer smiling. He wouldn't tell me what she had asked of him, only telling me it was my turn next.

I stepped into the boat and nearly fell over as it moved forward before I was even sitting down. As it ran onto the sand that made up the edge of her island, I stepped out to meet the Lady. She nodded to me graciously, although not with respect. I didn't quite care - I knew that not all the Fae cared for me (pretty much any that came from my brothers lands were predisposed to not enjoying my company), to them, I was just a really long lived mortal.

'Well, young Britannia, are you prepared to hear my request?' she spoke in monotone, as if being the one taken advantage of, not us.

'Yes, of course.' I replied, trying to stay respectful.

'Then, listen. One day, I will require you to return Caliburn to my lake. You will do so without hesitation or delay. Is that understood?' she stared into my eyes and I have to say those strange silver eyes of hers were unnerving. I know I had visions when I was younger, but I had never yet met anyone who was a full Seer. Then, I thought about her words - return the sword. Returning the sword meant that the rightful King would no longer need it...

She wanted me to return Caliburn to the lake the moment that my King fell. I stared at her horrified - did taking the sword seal Arthur's fate? Would it not be able to protect him - would I not be able to save him? I don't remember biting through my lip aside from the fact that I could suddenly taste blood. I turned to glance at Arthur, who stood on the lakeside, fiery and resplendent in his armor. He wanted that sword, and I loved him so much that I gave into his desires. I nodded and swore to return it to her as much as it burned me to do so. I returned to the other side nearly in tears, but I could not tell either one what fate I had chosen. Arthur left to speak to the Lady, but I could no longer watch - I buried myself in Merlin's arms and did my best to stop crying. My King would want me to be happy for him so I needed to smile. Merlin seemed to understand, he said nothing but held me close.

When Arthur returned triumphant, sword and scabbard tied to his waist and unbothered by whatever boon he had been asked for, I smiled until it hurt and hoped he didn't notice it couldn't reach my eyes. As Arthur began to walk back to where we assumed our horses were, Merlin tried to reassure me - that the sword may represent the King, but it was really the scabbard that he needed - as it guaranteed that so long as the person who had the sword was wearing it, the person could not die. I wasn't reassured, but managed to thank him none the less.

We returned to Caerleon to much celebration - the King had returned, bringing with him a magical sword that would help expand the kingdom even more than before. During the feasting and festivities, one of Arthur's nobles brought up a point that I had hoped would never be brought up. A King needed a Queen - needed an Heir. And Arthur would not stay young forever - a point that made me wince - so he needed to get started on that. He needed to be married.

In the ensuing months, there was a large influx of princesses from all over our lands - and not just from Britannia, but from Cymru, Caledonia, Hibernia and Gallia. I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or not, but every night I came to sleep in his room and listened to how he really didn't like any of them - how he wished to just have me and have it stay that way. Was it natural for a King to love his country so much that he would pick it over a Queen any day? Finally, Merlin came to us one night and told Arthur to just pick one - not for love, because he understood that Arthur didn't love any of them, but for alliances. I can't remember his exact words, but he pretty much told him to get her knocked up as fast as possible and then just leave her to her own devices. The two of them asked me who I wouldn't mind having allied to me - as it would mean closer relations to one of the other Nations that made up our Kingdom.

The answer was obvious to me - out of all the Nations under our control, there were only two that I still cared for. Cymru, despite having been betrayed by him, I still remembered our times together and how he wanted to rescue me from Rome, and Gallia, who I had lost touch with but still remembered in that peculiar combination of exasperation and fondness. But, even then it was easy to choose between the two of them - Cymru was my brother, we had shared Names and everything. So, we picked one of his Princesses, a young woman named Gwenhwyfar. She was very pretty, even I can admit to that, but she had one... well, more than one unfortunate downfall that we didn't realize until later. The first being no matter how hard Arthur tried, she couldn't bear a child. The second, which caused us all to fall down was that she was in love with Arthur - and desperately hated me, as I had all of Arthur's love to myself. But we did not know that at the time, or for years afterwards.

Time continued onwards as it was forced to do - Arthur and Merlin continued to age, while I mostly remained the same. I did grow a bit, but not much, which led Arthur to greater lengths to build his Kingdom as he believed his success would make me grow up faster and stronger. I believed him and enjoyed the feeling of being the one to be in control of others rather than them controlling me. But it seemed that every time I turned around, Merlin would look grayer, his hair becoming this salt and pepper mix, though I managed to convince him not to grow a beard, even as his skin began to lose it's youthfulness. Arthur got taller and broader, but even he began to change, to get older and I was beginning to fear that the time when I was to return Caliburn to Nimue was coming closer. It occurred to me that despite the fact that the scabbard would save him from all mortal wounds, it wouldn't save him from being mortal.

Then, one morning, Merlin came to me and asked me to take a trip with him. I was confused by that request - it had always been Arthur, Merlin and I going together, but Arthur agreed to let us leave as he was very busy, so I agreed as well. We set off, sharing one horse between the two of us and chatting of things like magic and how Arthur had grown into a wonderful King, and how annoying Gwenhwyfar was. I began to notice that we were heading back the same ways to Nimue's lake, but I kept my observations to myself as Merlin began to look resigned to something. I wish I had said something, had turned us around and gone back home.

We left the horse in nearly the same place as last time, and between the two of us, we managed our way through the fog, though I had to help Merlin on more than one occasion and we had to take a break in the middle so he could catch his breath. But we did make it out to the lake and there was Nimue, still waiting for us on the island in the centre.

'I see you have come to keep your promise.' she spoke and we could hear her as clearly as if she had been standing directly before us. I looked up at Merlin as he sighed and stepped forward.

'I have, Lady.' he said simply.

'Do you wish to say your goodbye's?' she asked, showing the first and only bit of compassion that I ever saw out of her. Her words scared me, terrified me. I ran up to Merlin and grabbed his robes.

'Merlin? What does she mean?' I asked, though I felt I knew the answer before he even told me.

'My promise to her was that I would come here when I was ready to face death.' he told me, smiling at me but no longer with his former boyish enthusiasm, but with the look of someone who had lived a long time and was ready to leave. Before I could protest, he knelt beside me, kissed me on both my cheeks and my mouth and whispered how he loved me in my ear. But that didn't stop him from casting one last spell - one that would not allow me to move. I couldn't resist it as hard as I tried - he was my magic. Then he left me, moving to the waters edge.

Nimue said nothing, gave no warning before the surface of her lake swirled up and turned to ice - large thick spikes that charged towards Merlin - _my Merlin._ He did not try to stop them, just stood there. One moment he was fine, the next there was a large bleeding spike through his chest, arching him up into the air and into her castle.

I could move again as I fell to my knees in the mud. I couldn't see through the tears in my eyes, my throat hurt as I screamed at the ground. I could move - his spell had ended. He was dead. The Lady of the Lake paid me no mind as her waters calmed again, floating docilely except for this one patch of red that was quickly dispersing and she played her hard as if she hadn't just murdered one of my most beloved people. At some point, when the tears were gone but my head ached so fiercely, I forced myself up and stumbled away into the forest. She must have granted me one favor, because I had no idea where I was wandering too - and yet I made it back to the horse. The one horse, so I didn't have to lead a second one back, because Merlin knew he would not be returning. I broke down again and didn't care that the ground scraped my hands raw as I beat them on it or that my clothes became muddy and torn. Merlin was gone. And he wasn't going to come back this time. No more smiles, no more snarky personality, no more whispered conversations during Court when we really shouldn't be talking. No more kisses, or hugs, or magic. It felt as if that part of me that had been cut out so long ago had been cut out again.

I woke up hours later in the darkness and realized that Dog had appeared and curled around me as I had been too out of it to make a fire. It made a very sympathetic pillow as I held onto it for dear life and whined in sympathy, for it liked Merlin almost as much as I did. It was thanks to Dog that I could make it back home because I found it impossible to guide the horse, let alone take care of the both of us for the long ride back. In one quick jump, we were back at the gates to Caerleon castle and the guards took one look at my appearance and pulled me inside, sending me to my rooms and bringing Arthur down upon me like a worried mother bear.

I couldn't bring myself to explain what happened and the moment he asked where Merlin was that I found myself being calmed down in his arms as he muttered calming words in my ear and rained kisses down on my face.

I was long in recovering from the loss of Merlin, which was a mistake I wish and yet do not wish to take back as it would dishonor the memory of him. New knights had joined Arthur's court while I had become indisposed, and without Merlin there to warn him, to watch Gwenhwyfar, to watch for harmful spells... everything fell apart.

It started with the new knights - more specifically Mordred, Arthur's nephew, and Launcelot, who fell in love with the Queen. After Merlin's death, Arthur began to spend less and less time with Gwenhwyfar and her jealousy grew and grew. Her love for him grew sour, and out of spite she began an affair with Launcelot. That continued on for months before Arthur caught them in the act. He imprisoned the two of them, intending to execute them when a spell came from the north, allowing them to escape in the night for Gallia. Arthur left me behind to chase after them - for allowing them to besmirch his honor and he left Mordred in charge while he sought revenge.

I was sleeping quietly in my room when that man came in and dragged me to the dungeons, locking me in there and leaving me there for weeks. I weakened from the lack of food or water and the chains cut into my skin as my mind traveled away from my body to watch as Mordred claimed himself my King while Arthur was away. I felt it when my true King returned to Britannia and rushed back towards Caerleon. I also felt it when Mordred dragged me out of the dungeons and tossed me over the back of a horse as he left to meet Arthur in battle.

The sunlight seared into my eyes, well attuned to the darkness under the castle and I struggled as much as I could in Mordred's grip, but he was healthy and determined to hold onto me and use me as a shield. We came upon Arthur and even from a distance I could see his devastated expression when he saw I had been captured.

'Mordred. Let Britannia go.' Arthur commanded, hand on Caliburn's hilt, fully ready to pull it out and attack.

'I am sorry uncle, but I cannot do that. You see,' and he pulled his own sword out and placed it at my neck, gently pushing until it cut through my skin with a bite. 'you are getting old. I can understand that, but your obsession with your little whore,' he hissed that last word out slicing along my neck just a little deeper, a little farther, 'has blinded you to your kingdom. You did not see Launcelot and Queen Gwenhwyfar, did not see mother helping them escape, did not see that I wanted your throne. So, I have to say that it is time you stepped down, old man. I shall be King and Britannia will be a glorious kingdom once more!'

If I could have shaken my head without lobbing it off I would have. He reminded me so of Vortigern, I would not have him as my King - I swore on Arthur's helpless expression that I would kill Mordred myself if he ever presumed to take full control.

'I cannot stand down Mordred. I shall not. You are openly rebelling against our kingdom and for that, I shall kill you as I would any who would try my power.' Caliburn was out, catching the sunlight and becoming a beacon of his will. 'I challenge you, nephew, to a duel.'

I was suddenly shoved into arms and held down by other knights as Mordred accepted the challenge. Both my Kings - true and false - marched towards each other, leaving a large circle of space for their fight. It wasn't a long drawn out duel - Arthur was as he had always been, a strategist and fast on his feet, while Mordred had his youthfulness on his side, nearly able to avoid every swing of Arthur's sword with speed. Then, with one quick swipe, Arthur's scabbard went flying and I remembered with sudden clarity that Merlin told me that so long as Arthur wore the scabbard he could not die.

With one last swing, Caliburn was buried deeply in Mordred's side. At the same time, the younger man's sword became lodged in Arthur, all the way to the hilt. In that moment, a cheer went up from Mordred side while a cry went up from Arthur's - and I screamed, even as I broke free from my captors and ran for him.

'Arthur!' I yelled over and over as I knelt by his side. I was still breathing shallowly - still alive, but not for long. I scrabbled for the scabbard and tried to get his hands to clasp around it - hoping against hope that it would be enough to save him, but his hands slipped nervelessly to his sides. I tried to staunch the wound as it seemed like every last bit of blood in his body was trying to fly out of him, though the only result was me being covered in it - stained with it.

'Bri... tannia...' he choked out, blood coming up his throat. I froze for a moment, startled, then moving up to his face, grasping it between my blood soaked hands. He could see me even as I could tell it was hard for him to keep his eyes open. He smiled - actually smiled at me, despite the pain and the situation. 'I'm so glad... you are okay.'

'Oh Arthur...' I was crying, I could see it dripping down from my chin onto his face. 'I don't want you to die. Don't leave me, please don't leave me.' People were beginning to gather behind us, I could vaguely feel them and their sadness for their dying King.

'Britannia... I swear to you... that if you ever... r-really need me again... I will return for you.' he was choking on his own blood even as he bled to death from his wound. 'So... do not cry... smile for me?'

I couldn't smile, not while looking at him. So I forced my eyes closed and thought of all those times with him that made me smile and laugh and literally forced my lips upwards, just for him. Even with my eyes closed I felt the moment when he actually died - the heat, that wonderful warmth that felt of Arthur, that subtle presence in the back of my head just... stopped.

I stumbled away from his body, unable to see or think (section blotted out by tear stains, unreadable.) being Called by a spell, it whispering in my head '_Return the sword.'_ I managed to get myself over to Mordred's corpse, through the crowding people who all did not notice me. Reaching down, I pulled as hard as my exhausted body could and Caliburn came free with a wet pulling sound. I fell to my knees and quickly used Mordred's cloak to wipe most of the blood off and stuck it roughly back in that useless scabbard. I pulled myself back to my feet and stumbled back to Arthur, laying silent and for the first time since I had known him, cold.

I knelt reverently beside him, Caliburn across my knees as I did the opposite from what I promised the Lady of the Lake and hesitate and delayed. I did not want to leave him there. 'Arthur.' I spoke to him, even though he could no longer hear me. 'Arthur, I want to make an oath to you too. You see, I lied to you all these years. Britannia isn't my name, it was forced upon me. You deserve to hear my name, my True Name, and until the day you return, you can keep it safe with you, okay? I'll take a new name, another false one, so take care of it for me, will you?' I leaned down close to his ear, for my name was his and his alone. 'My Name is Albion. Use it not in vain, Arthur.' I kissed his blood soaked temple and forced myself to my feet, stumbling away and trying not to look back.

Once more the people ignored me and my grief, which worked out best for me because in the state I was in there would be no way I could convince the guards to let me in or the stable master to let me take a horse. I pointed it in the direction that the Call was telling me to go and just let the horse pick it's pace as I raged in it's saddle. I took infrequent breaks along the way - mostly at night when the Black Dog would appear to give me that welcome shoulder. It brought food and water with it because it knew I hadn't had any in such a long time and to keep my word I needed to be able to stay conscious. I have no idea how many days I had been traveling when I was attacked.

One moment I was in the saddle moving along at a fast walk and the next my horse was screaming and I was laying in a pained daze on the ground as it flailed - with three large Saxon arrows sticking out of it's side and neck. The poor thing thrashed and flailed on the ground, slowly weakening until it died, but all I could think of was how much I really did not want to see which Saxon's had caught me. Through all this I managed to keep a grip on Caliburn, even as landing on it gave me some very hideous bruises all down my front and broke one of my fingers.

But none of that mattered when Saxony came to loom above me and smiled. 'Looks like we have caught a little dog, my brethren. Good catch.' he called back and over the side of the horse I heard laughter from several voices. I moaned in both fear and pain - he was right, I was caught but through all this there was still the steady pull of the spell on me. He reached down and pulled me to my feet with only one hand and that hand was stronger it seemed than Rome's from so long ago. 'Now, little dog, what shall we do with you?'

I was shaking, but I forced myself to look up into his eyes. 'Please...' I begged. 'I beg you to let me finish one last quest for my King... I promise to surrender to you, I will not even fight or anything, but please...' I could barely see through the tears in my eyes that forced me not to blink so they could not fall - or talk because my throat was closing with my grief. I couldn't see Saxony's expression because of that, but he paused and was silent for a long moment.

'You will not fight back? Nor will you run?' he finally spoke, questioning my integrity. I didn't even care by that point, my pride had been shattered, so I knelt before him.

'I swear it, on my life and on my King's honor, that I will willingly go with you wherever you wish me to go, no fighting, no running, no arguing if only you shall grant me that one boon.' Kneeling as I was, Caliburn was taller than me and for once I did not wish I was bigger.

Saxony once again pulled me to my feet. 'I accept that oath little dog. Now, where are you going?' he dragged me past my dead horse to a party of Saxon's - a hunting group, it seemed. I told him I was heading to a lake to give the sword back to the Lady who had given it to Arthur. The look that he gave the sword made me clutch it closer - he had stolen so much from me since he had come, I would not give him the sword. In the end, he shrugged as he mounted his horse and then pulled me up to sit in front of him. The situation was disturbingly similar to that one time I rode with Rome, though thankfully Saxony did not try to pet my hair, nor try to steady me as his horse began to move. I pointed the way and lapsed back into silence, letting the mortals and their Nation converse in their own language without a care.

What seemed like ages later our party reached that mist that I was coming to truly hate. Saxony waved his men to stay back, sending our horse alone into the mist. In complete silence we reached the edge of the lake, the only difference that was there since the last time I had come was that Nimue was not on the island or anywhere in sight. And that I was here without anyone I cared for.

I walked right up to the waters edge, wondering what I was supposed to do with Caliburn if the Lady wasn't there to accept it. I thought back to her words and how she had told me to return the sword to the lake. In a fit of spite, I did just that, throwing the sword as hard as I could towards the deeper part lake - I came away disappointed as that same hand that had help the sword before burst out of the lake and grabbed Caliburn by the hilt and stayed there unmoving. Both of us watched the sword hilt glitter in the faint sunlight for a long moment. Then Saxony's heavy hand fell onto my shoulder and he guided me away to my fate as a conquered nation once more.

I stopped caring, stopped thinking. For a long while, everything was blank, was bleak. I would come to awareness once in a while as my people continued to fight and lose. Saxony had locked me away, I assume to make sure I kept my promise. He gave me a room high up in whichever castle he kept me in, with a large window that I sometimes went to look out of. I think that every night Saxony was not out warring he came to stay in my room, in my bed, though he never tried anything more than that. Or at least, I was never aware of it.

Then he created the Kingdom of Wessex and that problem that I had with multiple personalities that had been cured thanks to Arthur came back. I began to find myself coming back to myself in odd, usually horrible places - like having just come back from a fight covered in blood that was _my people's_ and yet _not_, or standing at Saxony's side in meetings. I began to lose myself once more, especially when Northumbria, Mercia, East Anglia, Essex, Kent, and Sussex were added into the mix. Those rare moments where I was myself I began to hear the people - my people, who were becoming one with the Angles and the Saxons and the Jutes like how Rome's people had become mine as well, which I _did not want - _call me 'Angleland' to describe the heptarchy of Anglo-Saxon people as most of my lands became conquered and owned by them.

I am pretty sure the part of me that was Mercia was in love with Saxony - the times that I became myself when he took me to that particular kingdom and I woke up in compromising positions... right, I'm supposed to actually write down what happened. Okay. There were a few times I woke up without clothes on in his lap - sometimes I could tell we had gone farther than others, like when my lips were bruised, or there were bite marks on my skin, or the times when Saxony was still hard, or the times when the bed was covered in cum. I'm still thankful that I never woke up with a sore backside - I think Saxony was reticent enough that he wouldn't actually sleep with someone who looked to be twelve, but he was very much willing to go up to that point.

There was this one long period of time that I did not return to myself - I could tell because I saw Saxony looking the same as ever and the next moment for me he was... old, with graying hair and faint wrinkles in his skin. I know that those seven parts of me were at war, I could see it in the bruises littering my skin and an odd ache I had in the back of my skull. Saxony was holding my face with both his hands, staring into my eyes.

'There you are, Angleland.' he smiled faintly at me and I was puzzled, because I never remembered Saxony smiling kindly at me. 'I've been calling for you for a long time, boy. You sure know how to hide yourself away.' he coughed into his fist briefly, taking his hands away from me. 'I need to speak to you, and I need you to listen and understand, so do not fade away again.'

He watched me and waited, before nodding, understanding that I wasn't going to disappear any time soon. 'It is time for me to go, Angleland.' he started, and I knew what he meant - he was getting old, like Rome and he was dying. 'I apologize for leaving you such a mess. I thought my people could remain unified, could populate your island and finally stop warring, but alas my plans did not come out true.' He slowly sat back with a wince and pat his lap, wanting me to sit closer to him. I did, really gingerly. 'I know you still mourn your loss, but you need to be strong if you are going to be able to become a strong Nation one day.'

And he was right, because not long after he vanished I began to run into new problems. He had taken care of most of the internal problems of these new unstable monarchies - now it was all left to me. So, not only were the seven parts of me warring against each other, but most of the seven were having civil wars inside them as well - Kings were being murdered and replaced, whole noble families were rising up and trying to claim rule. It was chaos. And into that chaos waltzed the Vikings, nearly three hundred years after Arthur passed away.

I first noticed the Vikings - the Danes to be exact - was at Lindisfarne it the early months of summer. It felt like a particularly bad bug bite on my arm, and when I looked at it moments after I felt the pain, it was already horribly bruised and had swollen to the size of a robin's egg. I was no where near the site, having been walking the length of Offa's Dyke but when I sent my thoughts out towards the people who lived there, I was nearly bowled over by the feelings of _invasion_ I was getting from the area - all the fear and anger and death. It wasn't the last time they peppered my coastline with raids and with the rate they were looting at I was beginning to look like I had some sort of plague.

Meanwhile the Danes had gathered a vast army and very quickly, the part of me that was East Anglia was gone, but was replaced with that skin crawling feeling of foreign occupation. I joined Aethelred, who was the King of Wessex and recognized me as a Nation - one of the few people who did right away, actually - and marched towards the invaders. That battle was when I met the Nation of Denmark - blonde haired and blue eyed like Saxony had been, but much younger looking as in around fifteen or sixteen. He wasn't very intimidating at first glance - if I was to compare him to someone I knew nowadays, I'd say he reminded me a great deal of America, all idiocy and exuberance. Then he brought out his war axe and lead a charge towards my people's army and laid waste to us.

In every battle we fought against the Danes that winter, I began to notice that Denmark tried to beat his way closer to me - if I was on the farthest corner away from him at the start of the battle, at some point I'd notice him, hacking and slashing away and making his way towards me. Every time I checked to see where he was, our eyes met - his filled with challenge and victory and I became more and more worried. Then, one fight, I turned around and there he was, nearly on top of me with his axe hurtling downwards towards my head. I dodged that swipe as well as the next heading for my legs before he tackled me, pinning my sword arm with one knee and pushing my chest down with one hand.

'Hi there!' he laughed, disturbingly happy for someone who was involved in a battle. 'You must be Angleland.' I struggled against his grip without answering only to find his axe lodged in the dirt right beside my ear while his smile grew larger. 'I've been trying to get your attention for a while now but you haven't been watching.' His now free hand came up and cupped my cheek before the fingers turned to claws and raked down my face. 'I don't like it when people ignore me.'

'F-fine! I won't ignore you, so what do you want?' I was being crushed under his weight and his intensity - that happy smile hadn't changed despite the tone of his voice. The claws vanished and his hand went to stroking my abused cheek.

'Well, I wanted to tell you you've got nice lands. Really nice lands. To be honest with you, I want them.' he leaned in, closer and closer, making me panic. 'Has anyone ever told you you're hot?' he kissed me, and it would have been passionate if I hadn't taken that moment to knee him in the groin. He fell away from me, laughing and wheezing at the same time as I sat up and brought my sword around. 'And fiery too! We should have sex - it'd be smoking.' He would not stop laughing - at his play on words, at me, at our predicament and my face flushing with embarrassment was not helping matters.

He gathered himself once more and jumped at me - even as I brought my sword up to stab him through, when a gauntleted hand reached out and snagged Denmark by the back of his neck and _threw him away_ from me. I tore my eyes away from the now swearing blonde in time to watch Aelfred - the heir to the Kingdom of Wessex if Aethelred fell - charge after the older Nation, both of them disappearing into the fray.

In the end, we lost that battle as well as the King, making my saviour Aelfred the new ruler. He came to my tent the day after the battle and asked about what had happened with the other Nation. I told him that Denmark wanted what any of the other Nations to invade me wanted - to dominate us, enslave us and do as they wished with all my lands. He was a smart man and caught my insinuation that 'us' meant 'me' especially and took very great care in the ensuing battles we were in to make sure I was safe. Which, to be quite honest, is probably why we lost battle after battle and were forced to hide in a small fort after running through some of my muddier marshlands for the winter.

We had a talk about how he needed to be more worried about our people than me - if we were conquered, if the people fell, then I fell regardless of how free he kept me. When we emerged from our wintery hell, he gathered our forces and set out once more. We did much better after that - although Aelfred was no Arthur he managed to push the Danes back and even, to my amusement and horror, force the leaders of Denmark as well as Denmark himself to be baptized and become Christians... even if that was only temporary with the Nation. I lost a few more personalities in those years - the Danes took over a large portion of my country and called it 'Danelaw' - while I became mostly Wessex and Northumbria. I was particularly glad to be rid of Mercia, which became split between us and the invaders. We got London (formerly Londinium) back and, much to my pleasure, Aelfred took time to completely tear up the older Roman part of the city and renew it. As the years of his reign passed he sent the Danish fleeing back to the continent, revamped the military as well as building enough forts to keep the invaders out and started to encourage higher learning for his children, the sons of his nobility and even highly intelligent boys of lesser birth. Unfortunately he, as well as all my Anglo-Saxon Kings, was a Christian, so he encouraged the expansion of the Church - by that time, there were hardly any Druids left, let alone people who believed in the old ways.

Aelfred also led the way for some very successful rulers who managed to push the Danes back further - his son Edward, Aethelstan (who managed to subdue all my brothers people's, then promptly beat them as they rebelled as well as the Vikings all in one go. He deserved to call himself 'King of all Britain' for that) being the prominent Kings. And while I had managed to keep it together during those years, I had a resurgence of my Mercia personality when the people of that kingdom rebelled with the Northumbrians. The Kings of Wessex became decidedly leery about me after that - not wanting to include me in their plans in case I turned traitor, which probably led to how I ended up with such a bad string of Kings, the breaking point being when Aethelred (the second) became King. And let me put it this way - he is known in history as 'the Unready' for a reason.

To start off, he didn't trust me - he thought the whole 'Nation thing' was a hoax. Then, when the Vikings began to attack again, instead of fighting back, he began to bribe them off - he bought years of peace for us, which in the end, only encouraged them to return once the time was up - sometimes before the time was even up. Denmark was having a ball - he was getting richer being paid to stay in his part of the island than when he was looting and ransacking. We met at the border of Wessex and Danelaw once and he made it quite clear that I was going to run out of money soon enough and then he'd walk right in and take whatever I had left.

I wish I could say that we proved him wrong, but I quickly found out that he was right. I was woken up one morning to the noise of many horses being gathered, with people shouting back and forth. My hopes were that Aethelred had finally gathered together an army - one to beat back the Danes like my previous Kings - but those hopes were dashed when I looked out the window to see a train of servants and knights with many carts filled with packs filled with... well, with stuff you don't take to war, as well as most of the Wessex nobility gathering around and waiting. I bolted down the stairs, nearly tripping on my own feet in my haste to get outside. From the same level as all the noise it was very much like chaos - it took me quite a while to actually find my King amongst all the hustling around. He was already mounted and the train was finally ready to go when I grabbed onto the side of his saddle.

'Aethelred! Where are you going?' I had to practically yell to be heard over the din. He looked down at me, both annoyed and guilty at the same time.

'Sweyn's declared himself King - he is on his way to kill me. So... I'm off to Normandy.' I stared at him, completely flabbergasted that someone who dared to call himself my King was just going to run off and abandon all of us just to save his own skin. It was like Vortigern all over again, except Aethelred wasn't inviting the Danes in - he was fleeing from them.

'But what about our people? You're... you're just going to leave them and - and what, just hope we survive? Or will you not even feel that guild?' I was quickly becoming furious, but that emotion was sufficiently quelled when Aethelred kicked out with his leg, knocking me down into the mud.

'You listen here boy, I will not take that tone. Even if I am no longer King, you will respect me and my wishes. So long as I live.' and with that he turned his horse about and gestured with his hand for the whole party to move out. He was gone - followed by the entire castle's population. Leaving me to fend for myself against yet another person who wished me harm. I could feel the invading army marching slowly towards me - not even a day would pass before they reached me.

That was probably when I first began to fear that Denmark would be another Rome - as I was trying to grab the few possessions that I needed to survive running in the wilderness again. If there was no King - if that Danish man was my new King there would be no place to run to but the wild. My limbs - no, my entire body began to shake. I was terrified of Denmark and what he clearly wanted to do to me. I had thought I had been getting over what Rome had done to me - centuries... nearly a millennia later, and after having been conquered by someone else, despite the fact that Saxony never _did_ anything like what Rome had done.

My shaking became so bad that I found my knees buckled, forcing me to take precious time to get my act together. Time that I ended up not having - the Vikings were at my door, and there was no where to run. I could practically feel Denmark's feet walking up and around my castle, searching for people - searching for me. I shuddered, curling in on myself in the hopes that he would pass by my room.

I think that was one of the most frightening experiences of my life - sitting in that stone room with the Viking voices yelling and cheering and getting closer with every minute, the crashing of wooden doors against stone walls, the stamping of feet fading in and out as the rooms down the hall - then beside mine - were invaded. I curled my arms around my legs and his my face, waiting for the moment I would be discovered and praying they would just leave.

When my door crashed in, I flinched to the sounds of foreign languages, feet surrounding me, swords being drawn. Those voices I didn't understand became louder - shouting out to someone not yet in the room. The voice that called back was unmistakably Denmark, even as I could not understand what he said. Everything became quiet except for the sound of one arrogant set of feet sauntering into my room and stopping in front of me. I didn't move - didn't want to move and look my defeat in the face again.

'Angleland.' his voice came to me after another brief silence, filled with the assurance of winning, 'I've told you before I don't like to be ignored.' I was shaking again - worse, they could all see how afraid I was when I forced myself to look up into his face. He looked insanely pleased with himself and only became more smug when I looked at him. He extended his hand to me - it seemed to be becoming a running theme for the people who conquered me to offer me their hand - and after a moments hesitation, I reached out and took it. 'There we go.' he told me as he tugged me to my feet and led me away. We weren't halfway down the hall before I could hear the sounds of my room being pillaged. Denmark looped his arm around my shoulders without ever letting go of my hand and chattered away about stuff I probably concerned me, but I found that with every step I took my fears and anxiety would increase, making my ears ring and my head pound.

Outside the castle I could see the army settling down outside, tents pitched, animals tied down and filled with so much noise. I became a curiosity as Denmark led me deep into the mass of tents, people shouting questions at Denmark I couldn't understand, him laughing back and saying something in return only to pull me closer to his side until I was stumbling awkwardly, pressed right up against his chest and trying to keep up with his longer legs at the same time. He brought me up to the largest tent in the entire encampment, which from experience told me I was about to meet the man who declared himself my King.

I was very much right in that respect - Sweyn was inside, large and blonde, muscular and covered in enough hair to remind me of that Druid from so far ago. He caught sight of the two of us right away and got to his feet, speaking quickly in that guttural language of theirs to his Nation. After a quick explanation - or at least, I assume that was what Denmark was telling him, Sweyn laughed this loud, booming laugh, slapping Denmark on the shoulder (which I could feel, as trapped as I was to his side) and spoke to me.

'So, little Angleland, come greet your King.' he slapped himself on the chest with a massive fist. I wasn't even aware at first why he began to scowl before I noticed I was shaking my head while staring at him. Denmark's grip became overly tight on my arm, his smile less cheery and more forced as he dragged me right up before him and literally pushed me down on the ground before him. My face was being pushed into the dirt by a strong hand gripping my hair.

'Do not think to disrespect me - particularly since I now own you and your ultimate fate belongs to me.' his voice came from right above my head, telling me that he was the one trying to make me eat dirt. Thinking back on it makes his words ironic in that they were remarkably similar to Aethelred's own words as he abandoned me. 'Now, show my your respect, little slave.' I found myself with a face full of rough leather boots and the stink of his unwashed body. I gagged and tried to pull away but his grip on my hair was strong - strong enough that to get away from him I actually became desperate enough to kiss his boots.

'Now wish me a long life and fortune.' he pulled me back enough that I could look into his eyes - victorious and malicious. I licked my lips nervously and came away with the disgusting taste of blood, leather and dirt.

'Long life and fortune... King Sweyn.' I managed to grit out from between my teeth. He seemed satisfied for the moment as he threw me away from him by my hair. I landed on my side with a yelp, my scalp on fire from the rough treatment.

'Denmark, he is yours for now. Take him away, do what you wish.' Sweyn waved the both of us away, turning back to looking at the maps on splayed out on his low table. Denmark said nothing as he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the tent, all the way out of the encampment and back into the castle. As we delved into the deeper parts, we passed pillagers leaving, carrying anything portable with them - from tapestries to what money hadn't been removed before the Vikings arrived, to bowls and plates from the kitchens. They all spoke cheerfully in their awful language to their Nation, giving him what looked to be directions. That was true, because quite quickly we ended up in what was left of the King's room. It was mostly untouched - the bed was still there, though it was missing all it's blankets and the wardrobes had been pilfered clean.

I quickly found myself on my back on the bed, Denmark kneeling on my arms and making them go numb. I couldn't breathe - he was sitting on my chest with his full weight and even without looking I could feel every muscle in his legs shift and his cock, already half hard.

'Well, I think the saying goes 'to the victor goes the spoils.'' he leered at me, tilting my chin up and kissing me. I panicked - those carefully buried memories that I had been trying to never think of burst out of hiding and assaulted me. The next thing I knew, I was pressed into the wall near the door, my shirt mostly torn off and a few places on my chest and back itched with scratches. Denmark was pressing me into the wall, breathing hard and from the feel of wool and cloth on my back, still fully clothed. His head rested on my shoulder, his breath puffing warmly against my bare skin. We stood like that for nearly an eternity as my heartbeat calmed - well, calmed as much as it could being trapped against a wall by a Nation that to me had moments ago tried to rape me.

I jerked as I felt him touching my back - tracing my scars with long swipes of his finger. 'Where did you get those scars?' he asked softly, lifting his head just enough to not be actually touching my shoulder any more. My throat closed up, mu mouth dried up, I couldn't talk. The silence stretched between us until Denmark snapped it, suddenly pulling us both back and toppling onto the bed. He wrapped his arms around my waist, settling my head under his chin and just left it at that. For a good long while we just stayed there quietly - I had a good view of his chin but I couldn't see the expression on his face but his heartbeat gave him away, fluttering like mad and I could see his skin slowly turning to red the longer we stayed there.

'Just so we get this straight, I can have you whenever I want to. Scars just turn me off, so... next time you won't be so lucky.' his blush grew down to my eye level.

'Um... okay?' I said nervously, cautiously. I was still afraid of him at that point, hoping to not set him off again. His chin knocked my forehead as he nodded and the blush faded from his skin.

'So long as you understand that.' he said, his voice sounding more sure, as if he was convincing himself instead of me. 'So go to sleep - I'll have work for you in the morning.' his grip got even firmer around my waist, he shifted just enough that I was no longer laying directly on his chest - pushing me into his side. Fairly quickly his breathing evened out followed by soft snoring and I was still staring at him as if he had the same sort of multiple personality disorder as I did. When I was sure he was sleeping, I squirmed until I could lever myself out of his grip, so I could look down at him.

His face and neck were covered in scratch marks as well as all the top of his chest that I could see over his tunic. A quick glance at my nails and the bits of torn off skin stuck under them told me that I did that to him while I panicked. That didn't help me understand him anymore than before - in fact it made everything worse. I'd obviously hurt him (even if it was just a little) and then, not only was he not going to force me, he was going to sleep and leave me unchained? I couldn't figure it out then - the adrenaline from my panic attack was wearing off faster than my curiosity. I thought about it - that he wasn't going to hurt me now versus if I ran away I probably wouldn't get the same chance again, plus where would I run too since my former King had abandoned me. So, taking that into account as well as my exhaustion, I settled back down against his side and quickly fell asleep as well.

When I woke up, I was alone in the bed and a blanket had found its way onto me. It was warm and there was gray morning light filtering through the window and no Denmark in sight. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and noticed that there was a tunic laying at the foot of the blanket and that it wasn't one of mine. In fact, it was clearly Danish make and at least three sizes too large for me. But, I looked down at the remains of my shirt just hanging off me and not covering anything and quickly put the foreign shirt on and setting aside my tunic to sew up later if I could.

Before I had time to make up my mind what I wanted to do, the door creaked open just enough for Denmark to stick his head inside. When he saw I was awake he came the rest of the way in and sat at the foot of the bed while I was still near the center. I tensed slightly incase he had changed his mind from before and tried to grab me again.

'So... sleep well?' he asked me after a long and awkward pause. I gave him a very strange look - he'd gone from scary warrior to uncertain teenager since last night and I wasn't quite sure how to deal with him now that he was awake. He bit his lip pensively, running a hand through his hair.

'Look, I don't know what your problem is, but can't you at least _talk to me?_ You haven't spoken to me once since I claimed you as mine and it's really starting to piss me off.' he frowned at me as he shifted to sit cross legged just a little closer to me.

'What would you like me to say to you Denmark?' I told him after I gathered up my courage. 'Thank you for enslaving me? Did you have fun watching your King degrade me? Want to try raping me again - I didn't quite get enough of it last night?' my scorn grew with my words - and so did his scowl.

He drew his hand back and swung open-handed at my face, stopping just shy of touching me as I flinched back. We stared at each other as my heart pounded in my chest and he stayed still, watching my reaction. 'He's your King too now. So watch your tongue.' he finished, falling on his back to lay beside me. His arm came out to snake around my waist and his head leaned against my hip. He wouldn't look at me after that though - he scowled at the far wall and kept that up for a while - in my mind he began to look like an oversized, petulant child.

'You demand that I speak, but become offended at my words.' I sighed, but still I laid back down beside him. 'Make up your mind.' His position shifted with mine, until his arms were around my chest and his head on my shoulder. It was actually pretty comfortable, just laying in someone's arms for the first time since Arthur - and enough time had passed that being there, and doing that didn't make me feel as if my chest was about to burst.

I know that it might seem weird to you Austria - that I could become so comfortable with a person who had been threatening me for years - he had tried to hurt me and had fun while doing so. I found myself becoming attached to Denmark, and after that first night, he never tried to hurt me again... but he did love to hold me or to touch me, even if it was something small, like holding my hand or touching our shoulders together. And yes, I know it's considered Stockholm Syndrome today, but over the time I spent with him, I began to care for him to the point where if he hadn't been driven out forever, I could have fallen in love with him.

There was a celebration that night for Sweyn's victory over my people that Denmark forced me to attend. I sat beside him at the head table and for the first time, I drank enough mead to be drunk. It was mostly Denmark's fault - he insisted I keep drinking, even past the point of him getting completely shit faced. At that point, all the problems I had had seemed so far away and not bad at all. I don't remember too much past that, other than waking up with my first real hangover stunk worse than Denmark's breath in my face the next morning.

That first occupation by Denmark didn't last very long - a mere five weeks after I 'blessed' Sweyn, he died, making me very happy, because for just a couple weeks up until his death he harassed me, trying to make me into a highly subjugated Nation. At first he had left me alone - Denmark explained that I'd been left somewhat in peace because Sweyn (actually, the entire Viking army included) thought that he _had_ raped me that first night because of how scratched up his face was. When I didn't act like a poor, abused Nation was when Sweyn first began to try to torment me - bringing out hostages he'd collected from across my country and flaunting their slavery to me, demanding that Denmark give him to me for short periods of time where I acted as his personal servant (which he did his best to find error in my every way), to insisting that no English be spoken in his presence and forcing me to sit beside him during those meetings. Denmark did actually hit me on the head when I couldn't stop grinning as Sweyn's embalmed body was sent back to it's home and out of my country. I liked his son Cnut better and while the young man was fighting to get control of his army and his people, Aethelred returned and managed to kick him out of the country. Denmark soon followed, swearing that he'd come back soon.

When my former King first dared show his face to me I hit him, consequences be damned and told him he was the most lousy King I'd ever had. He kicked me out of his castle vowing that if I ever returned, he would have me hung. I didn't go back, not ever, instead I met up with Dog and between the two of us, we made it to London and hid amongst the people there. Not even a year later, there was word of Vikings in Wessex and Mercia and Aethelred was dead, though not from war. I was both disturbed and happy that the two rulers that I wanted to die had passed, even as I hadn't cursed either one. Edmund took over for his father and just in time for London to be besieged by over two hundred viking longboats on the river and more people on the land.

I was trapped in the city, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to be upset that I was on the precipice of being conquered again. In fact, whenever I found myself heading down to the docks, or onto the walls, I'd search the sea of bodies outside my heart, looking for Denmark's telltale hair and axe. His army left, driven off by Edmund's army - then it came back and was driven off again. Word came back that the English army had been defeated and negotiations were made, one part of me being free and under Edmund, the other belonging to the Vikings. And in around the same amount of time it took Sweyn to conquer my country and die did Edmund die and Cnut take over.

Once more, I saw the army of longboats in the Thames, though this time a force of them docked and was welcomed. I was there at the front of the staring crowd, eyes searching. Finally, I saw a familiar blonde head amongst the soldiers milling about on the docks. Dashing away from my watchful people, I dodged my way through his until I stopped right before him.

'Denmark.' I said, looking up at his surprised and happy face.

'Angleland.' he replied, his huge grin practically splitting his face. 'Welcome me back?' he teased, probably expecting me to make one of my usual snarky comments. I surprised him again by hugging him around the waist and not letting go.

'I missed you.' I mumbled into his tunic, embarrassed but not caring. His arms came up around me, one of his hands curling into my hair, the other across my shoulders.

'Me too.' he answered me just as quietly. I stayed like that for a long while and closed my eyes. He didn't seem to mind until he heard a voice being cleared behind the two of us. 'Oh right! Angleland, I want you to meet my brothers! They came to help me.'

His brothers were both around the same age as him, both blonde (though one was paler than the other), both in their full Viking armor and both rather expressionless. If you're wondering who I'm talking about Austria, those two are Norway and Sweden. I found the two of them rather intimidating as they stared down at me with intimidation.

' 's he the one?' the taller of the two asked in a thick accent. Denmark replied in his own language and soon enough the other two were nodding. I found myself being dragged along behind Denmark with the other two following.

'Where are we going?' I asked as I tried to keep up with their longer strides.

'Oh, well, I thought that since we're uniting our Kingdoms under Cnut that it'd be a good idea to get married!' he told me without turning around even as I could see the slightest bit of a flush coloring his skin.

'W-wait, what?' I spluttered, completely thrown for a loop. He was serious though - in under an hour the four of us stood before Cnut inside a catholic church of all places and without me actually saying anything - especially giving my consent - I had my first legally binding husband.

So, next time you hear Denmark call me 'hubby', yes, it actually happened once.


	2. Under Danish rule

Once more, I saw the army of longboats in the Thames, though this time the force docked and was welcomed. I was there at the front of the staring crowd, eyes searching. Finally, I saw a familiar blonde head amongst the soldiers milling about on the docks. Dashing away from my watchful people, I dodged my way through his until I stopped right before him.

'Denmark.' I said, looking up at his surprised and happy face.

'Angleland.' he replied, his huge grin practically splitting his face. 'Welcome me back?' he teased, probably expecting me to make one of my usual snarky comments. I surprised him again by hugging him around the waist and not letting go.

'I missed you.' I mumbled into his tunic, embarrassed but not caring. His arms came up around me, one of his hands curling into my hair, the other across my shoulders.

'Me too.' he answered me just as quietly. I stayed like that for a long while and closed my eyes. He didn't seem to mind until he heard a voice being cleared behind the two of us. 'Oh right! Angleland, I want you to meet my brothers! They came to help me.'

His brothers were both around the same age as him, both blonde (though one was paler than the other), both in their full Viking armor and both rather expressionless. If you're wondering who I'm talking about Austria, those two are Norway and Sweden. I found the two of them rather intimidating as they stared down at me.

' 's he the one?' the taller of the two asked in a thick accent. Denmark replied in his own language and soon enough the other two were nodding. I found myself being dragged along behind Denmark with the other two following.

'Where are we going?' I asked as I tried to keep up with their longer strides.

'What, have you never allied yourself with someone before?' he asked and even from where I was standing I could see the back of his neck flush red. I didn't know what he meant – sure, I'd been in a temporary alliance with Francia once long ago, but we had never done anything by it. Denmark looked back at me, and by my silence and probably my curious face took it that I didn't. If anything, his face turned redder and I could here the faintest of chuckles from one of his two brothers behind us as they followed along.

'W-well... when nations ally themselves... they cement it with a marriage.' he said as if that was a normal thing to do. I could feel my face turning brighter red even as I started to realize what he was saying. 'W-what?!?' I yelped, wide eyed and embarrassed. He laughed, relaxing and giving my hand a squeeze.

'I want to ally myself with you, Angleland.' he said as he pulled my up in front of a church – where his boss, Cnut, was waiting for us outside. And yes, Austria, we did get married – I spent most of the ceremony in a shocked silence, but that seemed to be okay by them, as Cnut pronounced us married and I found myself being kissed by Denmark and not minding it. Not minding it was an understatement – I enjoyed it and didn't even think of the last times I'd been kissed by someone.

The celebration of our union was memorable – or at least, the parts that I could remember before I got too deeply into the mead were something to remember. It was a grand festival that slowly spread throughout the city and I became more and more excited – and drunk – the more of my people that celebrated for me.

Then I woke up in the morning with a god awful hangover, completely naked in bed wrapped in the arms of an equally naked Denmark and a pain in my spine that was at once familiar but different from the one I'd felt centuries before. The smell in the room, from the breath tickling my ear, to the soft snores of the nation I'd apparently fulfilled a proper wedding night with kept me from panicking – it was similar to what Rome had done, yes, but at the same time it was so different... and something that even if I was drunk I'd gone in to willingly instead of tied down, whipped and raped.

When I tried to get up to clean myself up, I found myself pulled back down and onto the chest of the not-as-asleep-as-I'd-originally-thought Denmark, who grinned down at me and kissed me. 'Morning, husband of mine.' he laughed as we broke apart, planting kisses over every part of my face that turned red when he said that – which was nearly every part. One thing led to another and... neither one of us managed to get out of bed that day and while my phobia of sex wasn't cured, it was certainly lessened.

Too soon though, Denmark returned to the seas to do as he'd always done - pillage the other coastal nations of Europe - and while he offered to take me with him, I forced myself to turn down it down. I cared for him, the Nation, well enough and Cnut wasn't a bad King like Sweyn, but I was duly nervous having a new ruler on my throne again. He was courteous enough to me and mine and on the off times that Denmark returned from fighting, bright and bursting with energy I was lulled into a sense that maybe for once, life would be fine.

Then Cnut died and Denmark's sunny disposition faded as he got into more than a few fights with Norway. His new boss, Harathcnut, had to return back to their home lands to deal with the fighting and I couldn't help but feel a distinct disappointment at being left behind. I think my moping around bothered those of my nobility who knew what I was, for they quickly declared that since our King (and by proxy, Denmark himself) spent no time on my island that he couldn't be my ruler.

One misty morning, a longboat appeared on the horizon and when I saw it, I couldn't help the happiness that surged through me as I dashed down to the docks to greet the Nation that I could feel coming my way. It was Denmark, but I felt the happy grin on my face slip off when I saw the scowl on his - and the man with him that wasn't our King.

'This is Harold Harefoot. He's going to be your steward until Harathcnut can settle things at home.' Denmark said curtly, not giving me his normal cheerful grin when I asked him who the man was. He kissed me quickly and then was back on the ship, heading back for the seas and his home.

Harold and I ended up having only one thing in common: a mutual dislike for each other. I hated the way he didn't see me - he saw a country that he wanted to rule. That was one capture I couldn't avoid - he had me from the moment Denmark left us on the docks with his guards and I was locked away in a room deep inside the castle, no windows and only a locked door to come in and out of. He was never satisfied with being a regent for his brother... the many times he came down to my room to justify his desires were nearly the only human contact I had for the five years of his reign. I was distinctly aware of the brief time when Aelfred and Edward (both sons of Aethelred who had fled to Normandy when the Danes had first conquered me) returned to try and raise a rebellion. But, as I said, it was brief and Aelfred died (by being blinded, Harold came to whisper to me in the darkness of the night) - leaving Edward to return to his exile.

I had more than enough time to think over those long years - the confusion of how Denmark had treated me slowly molded into an anger... and resentment. Weren't we supposed to be allies? But to be treated like this... as far as I knew, this was what Denmark had ordered Harold to do to me - lock me away, no sky, no sun, no fae. I lost track of time in the dark, the only way to potentially mark the time going by was by the visits of my self-named king. It was lonesome and if I didn't already believe myself crazy, I think I would admit to it there - I so desperately wished for company that I slowly came to enjoy Harold's visits in a rather twisted way... it was the only way to get any insight into the world outside, and I was prepared to take it in any way I could.

I first learned of Harold's death when Denmark arrived back in Angleland and released me from my prison. Well, not so much 'arrived' but flew into my locked room and practically tackled me to the ground with how strong his embrace was. I was, quite honestly, too shocked by his sudden appearance to respond, even to the kiss he gave me. But I had enough sense to understand the whispered words he spoke in my ear - of how things would be better again now that Harathcnut was back on the throne and Harold was dead and how he was so sorry to not have been able to come sooner to save me from my imprisonment. The anger I had been harboring towards him vanished so quickly at having someone - anyone - come see me... and then he brought me outside, into the sun. I will admit, the moment that I got him alone I thanked him with my body - he was surprised to say the least, but it was like we were newly weds all over again.

I was present when Harathcnut had Harold's body exhumed and in a small way enjoyed it when the corpse was beheaded and thrown into a fen. For a brief moment, I felt a small kinship with my new King. That unfortunately, did not last long. Denmark soon left for the continent and I began to realize what my old resentment was. Denmark was flighty, to say the least. He would not - could not - stay with me... and that was what I truly wanted. That was a small part of the reason I loved Arthur so much - he was always there for me when I needed comfort or just someone to talk to.

The problems with Harathcnut began almost immediately after Denmark left. When he came to Angleland in the beginning, he came with a fleet of sixty-two warships, intending to take back my lands by force from his usurper. Even though Harold died before there could be any warring on my coasts, there was still an army's worth of ships that needed to be paid for... and Harathcnut forced the payments from my people. Taxes were increased exponentially and my people protested while they starved. They reacted by killing two of his tax collectors - my anger and resentment at being under his rule increased nearly as much as when he increased our taxes when he responded by burning down Worchester and I was forced to feel the pain of it smoldering on my skin.

To add insult to injury, Harathcnut treated me as a servant the moment Denmark left. He was of the opinion that since I was a conquered nation that I was only there to do as he wished and his wish involved being his wine-bearer. The histories that recorded that man as a drunkard and a terrible King were all too true. In fact, they were rather down-played due to the lack of chronicled information. He constantly had a cup on the go, red faced and beer-bellied and while he only drank enough to become truly drunk at night, he was constantly a little tipsy (and tipsy for him was always angry). And that trait is what ultimately led to his demise.

As often as I could, I spent time away from the castle, wandering London to try to keep my progressively angrier thoughts as bay. All the resentment and sadness I had felt while imprisoned had grown, putting an irritable hunch to my shoulders that caused even my people to avoid me. I had come to realize that what Denmark called an 'alliance' wasn't what it was meant to be.

Lost in my thoughts as I was, the moment an arm clenched around my waist while a hand was put over my mouth, I was too startled to do more than freeze in shock as I was dragged away down on of London's back-alley's. It was a group of my own people I noticed as I stared to struggle - and I recognized many of the faces from court. They were from the large group of men and women who were drastically opposed to Harathcnut's reign, Lord Godwin being at the forefront, calm and regal despite the odd situation.

'My Lord,' he spoke to me, kneeling - actually kneeling on the dirty ground in his silk and fine cotton and speaking to me as the Nation he knew I was and not as our King's cup-bearer - to reassure me that their intentions would not harm me, 'we sincerely apologize for this... unusual circumstance to be able to speak with you.'

The group of them spoke to me of what would technically be considered treason if any of us considered Harathcnut out true King. Originally they expected me to be against their plans and to all our surprise I was all for it. As much as I'd once cared for Denmark, I was sick and tired of foreign rulers making like hard for my people. To be fair, I still cared for him, but not enough - not as much as I had cared for Arthur and Merlin - and definitely not enough to keep his rulers on my throne.

My nobles had concocted a simple plan - after much encouragement, Edward was named Heir to the throne. Not even a year later I did my part by putting poison in his wine. I must remark upon the irony of my method - the poison we chose to use was Yew, the very same type that Boadicea used upon me and her daughters nearly a millennia prior. Harathcnut was no Nation and his liver had been so badly damaged by years of drinking that he did not stand a chance. One minute I was serving him a refill that he had demanded - the next he was convulsing on the ground. A moment after that he was dead and I put the pitcher of wine down for the last time. Edward instantly took control as the body was taken away and court continued that day without further interruption.

Denmark returned shortly after that - how could he not after his latest King died in such a suspicious way. I met him down at the docks as his ship pulled in (I had been sitting there waiting every day since Harathcnut died, determined to have that conversation with him) and stopped him the moment he stepped off. Close behind him was Norway, who hadn't changed at all since I last saw him and the human they were with was assumedly Magnus of Norway, who had become Denmark's boss after our King died.

'Angleland, what's going on?' Denmark asked as he came down the gangplank and the guards that had been assigned to me blocked his way. I chewed my lip nervously - I remember biting through it, tasting blood - as my eyes traveled from him to the other two on the ship that were frowning down at me.

'Edward is my King now, Denmark. You aren't welcome here anymore.' I said, loud enough for everyone to be able to hear. His frown turned into a glare as slowly he registered my words.

'What was that?' he asked, the tone of voice bringing me back to when we were at war - to when he had sought to conquer me - and my hand went down to the sword at my side as he pushed through the guards with minimal ease to try and grab me, to shake the words out of my mouth and replace them with the ones he wanted to hear.

He didn't get a chance to get that far - the sword point aimed at his chest stopped him in his tracks and I was incredibly grateful he didn't have his war axe strapped to his back or I would not have won that particular fight. He was in his prime - an unstoppable Nation, while I was recovering still from the damages wrought on me by his Kings and war.

'I said, you and yours are no longer welcome on my shores. Go home and don't come back.' I impressed myself with my ability to pretend - my arm wasn't shaking and my voice did not waver during this entire encounter despite the fact that I wanted nothing more than to back down and return to the early days of our relationship where everything seemed to be wonderful and good. But it wasn't what my people wanted... and I was slowly beginning to learn that their needs came above mine.

My guards grabbed him by the shoulders with a good enough grip that when he started to struggle the did not drop him, dragging him back onto his ship and kicking down the gangplank so none on that vessel could return to the shore without jumping. The angry look on Denmark's face grew - but his underlying expression of confusion made me pause.

'I thought we were allies. Husbands.' he growled out, explaining the confusion. I suddenly realized that while I came to understand that what we had was not an alliance, he himself thought that this was how it should be. In my mind's eye, I could see how that would drag him down in the future, ruin him and make him weak. Despite the fact that I was basically asking for a divorce, I did not want to see him destroyed by his own ideals, so I tried to warn him.

'I put a lot of thought into this Denmark. And yes, while we are husbands... we are not allies. An ally stands on equal ground with the other - which in this relationship, we obviously do not.' I stared him right in the eyes, trying to see if he understood what I was talking about. To my regret, I saw no comprehension - his eyes remained the same, angry and confused.

He left then, quiet in his anger that was so unlike him. I had expected him to threaten - that I would regret this, that he would come back and take over again - but there was nothing. I wished him well and went back that night to my empty bed, my desires and regrets. On a very brief side note, neither one of us actually went back and signed any divorce papers (mostly because it was against the church's doctrines to divorce in those days) so... technically we are still legally wed. But by that train of logic, the two of us are in multiple polygamous relationships.

Anyways.


End file.
